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WHAT THE "BOYS" 
DID OVERTHERE 



By "THEMSELVES* 



Edited by 
HENRY L FOX 




PUBUSHED BY 

THE ALLIED OVERSEAS VETERANS STORIES CO.. Inc. 

145 W. 45t& STREET. N. Y. QTY 






Copyright, 1918 

by 

Allied Overseas Veterans' Stories Co., Inc. 

145 West 4Sth Street 

New York 



DEC23i9!8 



Press or 

The Royal Print Shop, Inc. 

New York 



©CU5086S8 



tmimmimmKmi 



IN MEMORIAM. 

This book is affectionately dedicated 
to 'The Boys," who found their final 
rest, in the Hallowed soil of Martyred 
Belgium, and France, by their more 
fortunate comrades, 

The Authors. 



CONTENTS 








PAGB 


Title . , . . . . . I 


Copyright .... 




a 


Men^oriam 






3 


Qjntents . 






4 


Introduction .... 




5, ( 


>, 7, 8 


My Experience as a Dispatcher 






9 


Bringing In a Sniper . 






19 


On the Flanders Front 






25 


A "Devil DogV Story 






31 


The Hun I was Sure I "Got" 






39 


In the Verdun Sector . 


. 




41 


Life in the Trenches . 






• 45 


Two Years in the Ypres Salient . 






' 49 


A Night Adventure . . . 






57 


A Madiine Gtmncr's Story . 






59 


The Fall of Cantigny » 






65 


The Retreat from Mons 






. 71 


My Service in Flanders 






79 


" " " (Part Two) 






. 85 


With the Ammunition Train 






. 91 


Hospital Experience 






97 


Two Years and a Half of War 






lOI 


From England to France and Back . 






. 109 


"Why I Hate a German" . 






. 119 


From New York to France and Back 






. 127 


My Duty to My G)untry . 






• 131 


The "Dardenelles" Campaign 




^ 139 


The First of thi^ "Tanks" . 




e 147 


The Sunshine of the Trenches 




. 151 


On the Belgian Retreat of 19 14 , 






. 161 



INTRODUCTION 

•-'How and why this book was compiled. 

By the Editor 

In assembling the stories contained in this 
book we have endeavored to put in realistic and 
readable form some of the actual, and authentic, 
experiences of soldiers and officers of the Allied 
Forces, who have returned to their home after 
nobly sacrificing themselves in the service of 
their respective countries. It has been our en- 
deavor to give to these stories as much of the 
personality of ^^the boys," who have told us their 
experiences, as possible, by using their own 
words whenever their physical condition per- 
mitted them to write their own stories. 

Literary style has been a secondary considera- 
tion as we believe that a majority of the public 
would prefer to read the truth unabridged, than 
a story garbled by editorial tinkering. 

We are indebted to the following heroes for 
their aid in the publication of this book: 

Machine gunner George Eckhart, No. 
105688, First M. a Batt, ist Div., A.E.F. 



6 Introduction 

Womided in the leg and gassed at Cmitigny. 
Decorated by the French Government with the 
'Groix de Guerre." 

Corp. Frank J. Sears, Co. A, 9th Infantry, 
2nd Div,, A.E.F. Shell shock and gassed at 
Chateau Thierry, Decorated by the French 
Government with the ^'Croix de Guerre." 

Sergt, Jack Winston, No. 55525, 19th Batt., 
Canadian Infaotr}", 2nd Canadian Contingent. 
\¥oiinded in the right arm, left ankle and right 
knee. Shell shocked and buried; also gassed at 
second battle of Ypres. . 

F, G, McAvity, No. 91805, gunner of the 8th 
Battery, ist Canadian Field Artillery. Wounded 
in the left foot, left thigh, left shoulder and 
gassed. 

Private A, F. Edwards, No. 6857, ^st Batt, 
I St Brigade, ist Div., Canadian Inf. Wounded 
m the right hand, right arm and buried by shell. 

Sergt. Alexander Gibb, No. 444476, 26th 
Batt, New Brunswick Regt, 2nd Canadian 
Contingent Wounded in both legs, shell 
shocked and gassed at Ypres. 

Sergt T. S, Grundy, 15918, Royal Fusileers, 
Middlesex Regt, English Army. Wounded in 
shoulder at Ypres and gassed at Loos. Deco- 
rated by the British government with the "Mens 
Star." One of the first hundred thousand. 



Introduction 7 

Private Jack Kneeland, No. 105, 43rd Co,, 5th 
Regt., American Marines. Shrapnel wound in 
the head at Bellows Woods, wounded and gassed 
at Chateau Thierry. 

Private Al. Barker, No. ii8, 43rd Co., 5th 
Regt, American Marines. Shot in the knee and 
gassed at Chateau Thierry, bayonet wounds in 
booth feet at the Marne. 

Sergt. Mark L. Nicholson, No. 3736, loth 
Liverpool Scottish, B.E.F. Wounded in head 
at Dardenelles. Partially blinded and gassed. 
Hooge, France. 

Private Jesse W, Wade, Dispatch rider No. 
151023. Wounded by shrapnel in the shoulder 
in Flanders, wounded in the leg at Soisson, 
Veteran of the Mexican campaigns of 1914 and 
1916. Seven times cited for gallantry by the 
French Government. 

Private Arthur J. Lewis, No. 407936. 
Wounded severely at Ypres and also at Chateau 
Thierry. Veteran of the 8th Irish Battalion, 
King's Liverpool Regt., British Army. 

Private John T. Miller, No. 122957, 96th 
Co., 6th Regt., U. S, Marines. Wounded in the 
knee by a machine gun at Bourches. Regt. re- 
ceived eleven citations on the field with the 
French legion of honor. 



8 Introduction 

Private George Oxton, loth Batt, C.E.F. No. 
81680. Wounded at Festubert, Bel. Right leg 
amputated at hip. 

Sgt John Michael Teehan, No. 21748, 6th 
Inniskilling Dragoons ("Irish Die Hards''). 
Stomach wound at Nieuport, Bel., 1914. Head 
wound at Neuve Chappelle, 1915; also gassed. 
Eight ribs and back broken at Monastir, Syriaj 
1916. Face and hands wounded in Palestine, 
191 6. Has lost eight brothers and two sisters 
(Red Cross nurses) in this war. Decorations: 
Mons Star and two India service ribbons. 

Sgt. Frederick Ralph Muir, No. 81611, lOth 
Batt, C.E.F. Wounded at Festubert. Leg 
amputated at the knee. 

Sergt. E. D. G. Aylen, No. 475337, Princess 
Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry ("Princess 
Pats"). Blinded in right eye at Hooge, 
Wounded in left shoulder. 

It is the hope of the authors that "What The 
Boys Did Over There" will give to its readers, 
some idea of real conditions in the field, and 
bring to those of us who remained at home a 
realization of the debt we owe to the men who 
have suffered for us. 

Editor. 




PRIVATE JESSE W. WADE 



MY EXPERIENCE AS A DISPATCHER 

By PvT. Jesse W. Wade, No. 15 1023, 
Dispatch Rider, A.E.F. 

I enlisted in the U. S. Army some five years 
ago, and have had continuous service ever since. 
Being in the army before the war broke out 
enabled me to know something about both sides 
of army life, but peace times and war times are 
as different as day and night. One war is 
enough for any man, so now I am ready to settle 
down, but, before I do, I will endeavor to tell 
you some of my experiences in this great war 
"Over Seas." 

Being already in the army, but in a branch 
of the service that was not likely to go over 
among the first, I volunteered to go with the 
first contingent as a dispatcher. We started the 
first leg of our journey across the Atlantic, and 
then we began those anxious nights of watch- 
ing for submarines — and that awful sea sickness 
for some twelve days. At last we set our feet on 
solid ground again and started our long journey 
across France, in some French cattle cars 

9 



lo Allied Overseas Stories 

marked eight horses or forty men. About three 
days in one of those, and one really believes 
there is a war going on somewhere. We were 
all very much disappointed when we were all 
landed a long way from the Front, and told we 
would stay there until we were trained in 
modern warfare; but all being blue-blooded 
Americans we took it very easy, building camps 
and getting things ready for the other boys that 
were coming. 

The small village near our camps was full 
of our boys every night. Mumm's Extra Dry 
Champagne was selling at 2j4 Francs per quart 
(49c. U. S.). It wasn't very long before our 
boys were taking baths in champagne. After 
having a few weeks of camp life there were fifty 
men picked out, to go to the English front, to 
receive instructions in modern warfare. I was 
among the lucky ones, and then the fun of war 
began. We were sent to one of the most active 
British fronts, and there we lived in the trenches 
night and day for two months. 

There I began to realize that Sherman's 
words were only too true. Anyone who never 
had the misfortune to be in Flanders, up around 
Ypres, at the time, will never know the hard- 
ships that the British, and a few Americans had 
to go through. We stood it wonderfully well, 



A Dispatcher's Experience n 

though. We could have enjoyed ourselves much 
more on Broadway. But the French say "cest 
la guerre" (It's the war). 

We had been in the trenches some three weeks 
before we had the opportunity of going "Over 
the Top." One's feelings the first time he goes 
over the top can never be known to anyone but 
himself. One will be dozing on the firing step, 
and the platoon leader comes around and 
whispers in your ear to get ready. The time is 
set for 1. 1 3 A. M. You can hardly talk above 
a whisper for the least noise draws fire from the 
enemy. As the time draws near, you look at 
your watch and see that you have only seven or 
eight minutes. Yet, you almost sink down and 
it seems as though the bones have gone out of 
your legs and back. The time is getting short, 
and at last the big guns open up, and something 
just seems to push you up and over. Before you 
are aware of what is happening you are out on 
"No Man's Land," acting like a veteran. After 
one or two of these successful raids you do not 
think war is so bad after all. It is real fun, 
but you have not seen enough of it yet. Tommie 
says : "Wait till you have three years of it and 
you'll be bloody well sick of it, Sammy." One 
year was enough to make me sick of it. An- 
other very pleasant job is to crawl out on "No 



12 Allied Overseas Stories 

Man's Land" some dark night on patrol, drag- 
ging yourself along on the ground, an inch at 
a time, for fear of being heard and fired upon, 
and just as you think everything is going fine 
you run over a twig and break it. It snaps and 
sounds like a ton of dynamite going up, and then 
they send up a star-shell to light up "No Man's 
Land," and you begin to say your prayers. 

Then all is quiet again and you finish your 
work and feel your way back to the trench. 
There is never a happier moment than when you 
drop back in your own trench, safe and sound, 
among friends. It was on one of these patrols 
that I got my first wounds. I was sent out about 
1.30 A. M. with a patrol of English to do some 
very ticklish work, and, in cutting our way 
through some wire entanglements, the wire 
snapped and made a ringing noise and the Ger- 
mans opened up on us, throwing everything at 
us but their shoes. We were giving them a 
receipt for all they sent us until, all at once, I 
began to feel sick and my arm became numb. 
I almost collapsed, but I knew that that was no 
place to act like a girl and faint, so I began 
crawling back toward our trench. It was hard 
to do only having one hand free, but at last I 
crawled into the trench where I found another 
horror waiting. Our trench was full of gas and 



A Dispatcher's Experience 13 

I did not have my gas mask on and as I got 
one breath of it I was finished, and the next 
thing I knew I was back in a nice little bed, 
between two white sheets, with a little blonde 
nurse smiling down at me. I thought that T 
had died and that I was in heaven until I heard 
a Tommy say: 

"Where in Hell is me Tags'," and then I 
knew I was not in heaven, but was not sure I 
was alive yet. At last I found out I was, for, 
about thirty minutes later, the gas began to make 
me sick. Gas sickness is the worst sickness in 
the world. 

After three weeks in bed I was getting along 
fine and was sent to a convalescent hospital. 
There we had the time of our lives, for two 
weeks, when we were sent back to duty. It was 
just like a homecoming to get back with our 
own boys again after everyone thought you 
were dead. Everything ran along smoothly for 
awhile until I was detailed as a dispatch rider, 
one of the most dangerous jobs in the army. 

The average term of a dispatcher's life is just 
twenty-three minutes, so you can't blame me 
for taking out $10,000 worth of life insurance. 
At first it was not so dangerous, for our troops 
had not yet taken over any part of the line, but 
we had to make trips to the front every day or 



14 Allied Overseas Stories 

two. At last we were ordered into the line and 
took over a sector of our own, and a prouder 
bunch of boys was nqt to be found. We were 
then doing what we had come over to do. 
Everything was quiet for the first few months, 
except for an occasional raiding party. We 
spent the hardest winter I ever put in, or ever 
want to, and if it had not been for the "cooties" 
we should have frozen, but they kept us scratch- 
ing and moving and kept our blood in circula- 
tion. At last spring came and things become 
more active as we were getting more men on 
the front. On the i8th day of July, 191 8, it was 
just like turning out a bunch of hungry lions, 
for they turned us loose, and said "go get them." 
We have been "getting them" ever since. At 
Chateau Thierry we began driving them back 
so fast that they threw the Prussians and Ba- 
varians at us ; all big fellows six foot and over, 
and very wicked fighters. Being a dispatch 
rider I was around some point of the line most 
all the time, and had the opportunity to go over 
the top with the boys wken not otherwise occu- 
pied. Once in awhile the dispatch riders would 
be given twenty-four or forty-eight hours off 
during which we could do as we pleased. Most 
of us went up in the line, and over the top with 
the boys, or those who had any qualifications as 



A Dispatcher's Experience 15 

a shot, would go out with a sniping squad which 
was very interesting as well as dangerous. At 
one time I had the pleasure of going up in an 
observation balloon, and seeing the fighting 
from the German side. I have seen with my 
own eyes German officers driving their men into 
battle with a whip or the point of a gun. I 
have also seen some of the atrocities committed 
by the Hun in Belgium and along the borders 
of France. It just makes one's blood run cold 
to think of it, as some of you do. You ask why 
a boy wants to stand up and be shot down by 
those dogs? I'll tell you why. It is because he 
doesn't want his own mother, or sister, to be 
treated as the Belgians and French women and 
girls have been treated. Every man, woman 
and child owes his deepest respect to any boy 
who has done his bit in the world war. 

Now to get back to the Battle of Chateau 
Thierry, and tell you a few of my own experi- 
ences. In that battle, one of the most thrilling 
experiences happened to me. The fight began 
at 3.30 A.M., July 26. I had just ridden up to a 
section of our line where the enemy had started 
a box-barrage, which it is almost impossible to 
get through alive and is almost like madness to 
attempt. At this time it was important that a 
certain message be delivered at the rear. Such 



1 6 Allied Overseas Stories 

a message is sent with from to two six riders, 
so that one of them will be sure to get through. 
There were five of us there at the time, but, 
owing to the fact that I had just come back from 
a trip, the message was sent by the other four 
riders. We watched them, but not one of them 
got through the barrage. Then the commander 
looked at me, and I looked at him. He didn't 
say anything but his look had words in it, 
written in big letters, saying: 
"It's up to you." 
I'll admit that I was scared. Not the cow- 
ardly kind but a different kind of fear. I once 
heard a general say that a soldier's life was made 
up of four parts — "Smiles, and tears. Profanity 
and prayers," and I think I executed all four 
of them at the same instant. It was only a delay 
of a few moments as he had the fifth message 
already written out, and in his hand, so I jumped 
on my machine, grabbed the message from his 
hand, and was gone before he knew what it was 
all about. I delivered the message without a 
scratch, but I think I was insane at the time; 
for it all seems like a dream. It was nothing 
short of a miracle. The fighting was very heavy 
for some days after that, and there was a similar 
case that occurred shortly afterward. This 
time I was the only rider at hand and I had to 



A Dispatcher's Experience 17 

go. But rather than take another chance with 
the barrage I could go across a corner of "No 
Man's Land," and circle around to the left. 
This avoided the barrage, but I had to face the 
enemy machine gun fire, which was very heavy. 
I started out on my last trip, as a dispatcher, 
and was not seen until going over a slight rise, 
when the enemy saw me. They opened up on 
me and threw everything at me but iron crosses. 
The machine gun was the worst, but after three 
minutes of hard riding, over rough ground, 
shell-holes and craters, I was out of range of the 
machine guns. Then they began throwing the 
larger guns at me. My machine was riddled 
with bullets. The engine was about out of com- 
mission, but as I was through the worst of it 
and was shaking hands with myself on how 
lucky I had been, I realized that I had been hit 
in the leg and after the excitement had died 
down, I was so weak, I could not sit on my ma- 
chine again. Good luck came along in the shape 
of a Frenchman and he helped me to head- 
quarters some 500 yards away. I delivered the 
message and then collapsed and a few days later 
awoke in a French hospital in Paris. Since then 
have been having the time of my life, and am 
back in the dear old U. S. now, almost well but 
willing to go through it all again for the same 
cause. J. W. Wade. 




SERGT. "JACK" WINSTON 



BRINGING IN A "SNIPER" 

An incident of the Battle of Kemmel Hill, as 

told by Sergt. *7ack" Winston, 55525, 

19th Battalion, Canadian Infantry, 

2nd Canadian Contingent. 

About two hours before dawn on the morn- 
ing of Oct. 8th, 1915, my company were in a 
sector of the front line trenches near Kemmel 
Hill. My comrades were taking their ease as 
we had been in comparative quiet for the previ- 
ous three days. They were variously employed. 
Some writing home, others idly smoking, the 
signal man lounging in the dugout, near his tele- 
phone instrument, and sundry others doing their 
bit toward cleanliness by removing "cooties" 
from their shirts. Our lieutenant was looking 
hard across No Mans Land through the trench 
periscope, and I wondered what was keeping 
him so long looking at a spot I thought we all 
knew by heart. He stood there perfectly im- 
movable for at least fifteen minutes, while 
several "star-shells", fired both from our own 
lines and the German trenches, flared and died. 

19 



20 Allied Overseas Stories 

Finally he turned to me and whispered, "Jack, 
I do not remember that dead horse out there 
yesterday. Take a look and tell me if you 
remember seeing it before." I looked at the 
spot indicated and sure enough there was a dead 
horse laying at the side of a shell-hole where I 
could have sworn there was nothing the day 
before. 

I told the lieutenant I was sure that nothing 
had been there on the previous day, and waited 
for further orders. German snipers had annoyed 
us considerably and as they took great pains 
in concealing their nests we had little success 
in stopping them. Several casualties had re- 
sulted from their activities. The lieutenant 
had evidently been thinking, while taking his 
long observation, for he said almost at once : "I 
believe that nag is a neat bit of camouflage. One 
of those Huns is probably hidden in that car- 
cass to get a better shot at us." 

He then told me to have the men at the port- 
holes fire at the carcass, at five second intervals, 
to keep Fritz, if he were there, under cover — 
and taking advantage of the dark interval 
between the glare of the star-shells, he slipped 
"over the top", having told me he was going 
to get that Hun. 

Imagine my suspense for the next half hour. 



Bringing in a Sniper 21 

I kept looking through the periscope but for 
fully fifteen minutes I could not find my officer. 
Finally I spotted him sprawled out apparently 
dead as a star-shell lit up the ground within the 
range of the periscope. As no shot had been 
fired, except from our portholes, I knew he was 
not as dead as he seemed. And sure enough 
when next I could make him out he was several 
yards ahead, and to the left, of the spot where 
I had last seen him. Then I knew what he was 
after. He was making a detour to approach 
the carcass from the rear, and as he could only 
move in the dark intervals between star-shells 
his progress was, of necessity, slow. At the end 
of another fifteen minutes I located him in a 
position, as nearly as I could judge, about ten 
yards in the rear and just a step to the left of 
the carcass. I then thought it time for me to 
take a hand, and give him what help I could. 

Running into the signal man's dugout I told 
him to call for a barrage, giving the range at, 
approximately, thirty yards behind the point at 
which the carcass lay. 

I then jumped back to the periscope only to 
see, by the next flare, that the lieutenant was no 
longer in sight. Leaving the periscope I selected 
three men, whom I was sure I could trust, and, 
by the time I had brought them to the firing 



22 Allied Overseas Stories 

step, the barrage from the guns in our rear for 
which the signal man had telephoned, began to 
fall. 

Quickly explaining to the men what I had 
in mind, that we were going to help the lieu- 
tenant, I was about to give the order to go over 
the top, when another man, who had overheard, 
begged me for permission to accompany us, and 
as I had need for some one to repair the barbed 
wire, which the lieutenant had cut on his way 
out, I gave him the job together with permission 
to go with us. 

After a few words of instruction to the cor- 
poral, who, during my absence, was left in 
command of our sector, we went silently "over 
the top" at the point where the lieutenant had 
preceded us. 

The barrage had by this time aroused the curi- 
osity of the enemy and they were replying with 
a brisk shelling of our lines, and the batteries 
that were laying down the barrage. 

We advanced at a walk and were fortunate 
enough to find the place where our lieutenant 
had cut his way through our barbed wire. 
There I left my volunteers with the necessary 
tools to repair the wire, after we should have 
passed through it, on our return. 

It was now beginning to get light enough for 



Bringing in a Sniper 23 

us to see several yards in either direction around 
us, and after moving forward about fifty yards 
beyond the wire, we ran straight into the lieu- 
tenant, who was driving the Hun before him at 
the muzzle of his automatic. 

We wasted no time on the return journey but 
hustled 'Tritzie" along at a brisk pace. 

Just as we had passed back through the barbed 
wire, a piece of shrapnel struck my volunteer in 
the shoulder, and I was forced to stop, and leave 
a man to complete the repairs on the wire, while 
I helped the wounded man back to the trenches. 
The remaining men, who had started with me, 
had remained with the lieutenant and his pris- 
oner, and we found all safe in the trench on our 
arrival. 

My wounded man proved to be not seriously 
hurt and the man who remained to mend the 
wire also returned unhurt. 

When all were safe in the trench, the lieu- 
tenant called off the barrage and the enemy in 
our front was doubtless wondering what it was 
all about, until the sniper, who as the lieutenant 
surmised, was hidden in the camouflaged car- 
cass, returned no more. 

The lieutenant had arrived at a point about 
five paces behind the Hun before the sniper dis- 
covered him, and then had him covered with 



24 Allied Overseas Stories 

his automatic. Like most of his breed there was 
a wide "yellow streak" in this baby-killer and 
he cried "Kamerad" instantly. By the time the 
lieutenant had secured his prisoner's rifle our 
barrage was falling and under its protection, 
he began his march back with the prisoner, and 
met us before he had gone twenty-five yards. 
The rest you know. 

The prisoner expected to be killed at once 
and begged piteously for his life, saying "he had 
a wife and three children." One of the men re- 
plied that if he had his way he would make it 
a "widow and three orphans." 

Needless to say he did not have his way, and 
for all I know that sniper is still eating three 
square meals per day in a prison camp. 



ON THE FLANDERS FRONT 
By Sgt. Jack Winston 

It was in November, 191 5 — we were at Kem- 
mel Hill, when the wet weather started in. I 
remember one night I was sent out of the 
trenches to the Dump, near the dressing station, 
for rations. We had no communication trenches 
then, owing to the heavy shelling we were get- 
ting from the German artillery, and we never 
had the guns to come back at them. We had 
to go out at dusk through the fields, known to 
us as "overland." We got down to the dump 
all right, but coming back the Germans saw 
us, and they turned three machine guns on us. 
I was about fifty yards from the front line when 
the barrage started. My pal was just behind 
me. About four yards from us was an old 
French trench, with about three feet of water 
in it. I jumped into that with my pal. The 
Germans kept the barrage up for about a half 
an hour and as soon as it stopped I made my 
way for the front lines. 

Just imagine what condition I was in when 
I reached there. I was soaking wet but the 

25 



26 Allied Overseas Stories 

rations were worse. Well, anyhow I had to do 
my sentry duty, just the same, because if one 
man was shy those days it put all the work on 
some of his comrades. I could not get a change 
of clothing so I took off my pants and wore my 
blanket like a Scotchman would his kilts. It's 
wonderful to me the hardships a man can con- 
tend with. We could get very little water up 
the front line and water means an awful lot to 
a man over there. Well, there was a creek run- 
ning from the German front line across No 
Man's Land and into our trench, and coming 
over No Man's Land it ran over quite a few 
dead bodies. We were told by our medical 
officer not to drink this water because the Huns 
might have put poison into it. But we had to 
get water some place, so we all took a chance 
and drank it, and I am still alive and just as 
good as ever. 

We were in the trenches for six days at a 
time. What good times we used to have when 
we were out in our billets. It was there we 
used to get the chance to have a good feed 
from the Belgian peasants. "Eggs and chips" 
was our favorite dish. Even when the men are 
out of the trenches they have to be ready in case 
of an attack. One night we got the orders from 
the front line that the trenches had caved in 



On the Flanders Front 27 

and, of course we had to go up and help the boys 
build them up again. 

It was this night, while carrying up sand bags, 
a bullet struck my right arm. I made the front 
line all right, but as soon as I was dressed by the 
stretcher bearer I was sent back to the dressing 
station to the medical officer to receive atten- 
tion. I was then sent to the field hospital, and 
the next day I was removed on an ambulance 
train, and sent to the base hospital in Etaples. 
I might state that this hospital was an Amer- 
ican hospital. How wonderful it was to me to 
find myself back in a nice white bed again. I 
was there for two weeks and then sent to a con- 
valescent hospital for another week. 

At the beginning of December I found my- 
self on the way back to the front line. Of course 
all my pals who were still there were glad to 
see me again ; but believe me it was hard to leave 
that nice white bed and go back "somewhere in 
the mud." I made the best of it. I knew I was 
doing my duty, as every soldier does. 

I had quite a few narrow escapes after that. 
One day as I sat in the trench, a German high 
explosive shell hit the next boy to where I was 
and when they explode they throw up with them 
all loose stuff that is in their reach. This one 
threw up an old French bayonet which missed 



28 Allied Overseas Stories 

my head by about two inches, but as long as it 
did not hit me I should worry. 

Our routine there was, six days in the front 
line, six in the billets and six in the reserve. The 
only thing I did not like about the reserve was, 
that the poor fellows that got killed in the 
trenches, if there was anything left of them, to 
give a decent burial, were brought out of the 
trenches at night and put into an old barn near 
the dressing station, until the next morning for 
burial. It was our duty to watch the bodies 
so that the rats would not eat them. Just 
imagine, about six fellows laying in an old barn 
all riddled with bullets and shrapnel, and the 
wind blowing, and the rain coming through, and 
to go and look at these poor fellows with a flash 
light. Some with their heads and arms blown 
off — but we had to do it. 

From Kemmel Hill we were moved in March, 
1 91 6, to St. Eloi where we put up a good scrap 
against heavy odds. I pulled through that all 
right. I remember we took some prisoners. 
There was a little Scotchman in my company 
who was alvv^ays looking for souvenirs and he 
brought a big German down the trench and 
made a grab for his hat. The Dutchman made 
a grab for it and said: 

"If vou want to catch a cold, I don't." 



On the Flanders Front 29 

I thought that was very funny but Jock did 
not. 

From there we moved to the Somme and 
it was here that the first British tanks were used. 
I got it again on the morning of September 15 
from a German high explosive, was buried, 
receiving shell shock and some wounds. A few 
days later found myself in a hospital and had 
a wonderful time, but I found that the doctors 
would not let me go back to France so I was 
returned to Canada. 

I was in Canada two weeks when I came over 
to the good old U. S, A. to help recruiting for 
the British and Canadian Army. I have worked 
on the Liberty Loan drives. Red Cross, Knights 
of Columbus and all other drives to keep the 
boys over there. One thing, to my sorrow, dur- 
ing the fourth Liberty Loan drive was that I 
sold all the buttons of my overcoat to each per- 
son who bought a five hundred dollar bond. 
The only thing that worried me was that I never 
had enough buttons, but as we all know a fel- 
low would not want to have two or three hun- 
dred buttons on his coat to fasten. I only wish 
I was in France to stay to the finish, and come 
back with the rest of the boys who are left. 




PRIVATE "AL" BARKER 



A ^^DEVIL DOG'S" STORY 

By Private Al. Barker, No. ii8, 43rd Com- 
pany, 5th Regiment, U. S. Marines 

The U. S. declared war upon Germany April 
6, 1917. I was going to college at the time. I 
went to spend a week-end in New York City 
and happened to be in Union Square where 
recruiting of soldiers, sailors and marines were 
taking place. A captain of the U. S. Navy 
was speaking on patriotism. As I stood there 
and listened a thrill went through me and I 
decided to enlist at once. I chose the marines 
because they were always the "first to fight'* 
I was sent to Paris Island, South Carolina, for 
my training, where I spent three months, and on 
August 12, 1 9 17, I was sent to Quantico, Va., 
for my overseas equipment. On August 21, 
1917, I sailed for France. 

The trip across was a very eventful one as 
we were twice shot at by submarines but we 
succeeded in eluding them. Nine days later we 
arrived at Brest, France, where we were all 
stationed in barracks. My first real training 

31 



32 Allied Overseas Stories 

began in France ; drilled from morning to night, 
together with such things as trench digging, 
bayonet fighting, grenade throwing and all other 
things necessary to an American marine. This 
lasted about three months. My first real en- 
counter occurred when we were ordered to the 
Belgian Front with Australian Anzacs. There 
I had my first glimpse of the Germans. We 
battled with them for twelve hours and I re- 
ceived a bayonet thrust in my right foot which 
laid me up for three weeks, and I was sent to 
base hospital No. 3 near St. Lazarre. After 
I recovered I was again sent to the Belgian 
Front where, in the next encounter with the 
Germans, I was captured and sent to a prison 
camp, built in thp German trenches. I was 
there with eight other marines, for twenty-one 
days, when a French air squadron descended 
upon the Germans and killed or wounded all 
of them. A French aviator, I do not recall his 
name, took me in his machine and we flew 102 
miles to the French forces. 

Being weak from loss of blood and sleep I 
was kept there a week, and then sent back to 
my own company. My fellow-marines had 
given me up for dead, and were more than over- 
joyed to see me. A few days later I was selected 
as a sniper with a few others, and we advanced 



A '*Devil Dog's" Story 33 

to a point as near the Germans as possible. 
Together with another marine. Jack Kneeland, 
who later saved my life, I climbed a tall tree 
as near as possible to the German trenches and 
stationed myself there very comfortably. 

We could see the Germans setting machine 
guns in position to be used against our forces. 
We both had our rifles and plenty of ammuni- 
tion, so we began to pick off the men who were 
operating the machine gun. These machine 
guns are the most disastrous and dangerous 
things in warfare. We succeeded in putting 
four of these guns out of commission when we 
were discovered by German snipers, and had 
all we could do to defend ourselves. I received 
a bullet wound in my knee and fell twenty feet 
to the ground. The other marine, Kneeland, 
quickly descended and protected me with his 
own body, and although he received three bul- 
lets he carried me to safety. As we were far 
from any hospital we were treated in the 
trenches to the best of the abilities of the doctors 
there. 

We had Germans all around us, and, although 
we kept up a heavy fire, we could not persuade 
them to come out and fight us as men. They 
preferred trying a means to defeat us which 
insured their own safety, and that was to try 



34 Allied Overseas Stories 

to starve us out. For six days we lived on hard 
black bread, and dirty v^ater. Our commander, 
previous to this, had sent out a marine, who 
had volunteered, to get through the German 
lines and bring us help. We never dreamed that 
he would succeed in getting through, but on 
the seventh day we saw several black specks in 
the air but thought nothing of them until they 
came close, and we saw that they were Amer- 
ican airplanes come to our assistance. The 
flyers descended as low as possible and threw 
us food in water-proof canvass bags. They also 
dropped bombs on the Germans and then flew 
away after promising to send a company of 
marines to our rescue. This promise we found 
in a note contained in one of the bags of food. 
It also told us to keep up our courage as we 
would surely be saved. All this time I was laid 
up with the wound in my knee, but I could hear 
our boys firing at the enemy, and they had all 
they could do to keep me in bed. Five days 
later I was aroused by an attendant and was told 
that an American scout had succeeded in mak- 
ing his way into our trenches, and told us that 
our relief was on its way, and would be here at 
any time. I felt much stronger after I heard 
this news and felt that I could fight the biggest 
German and finish him. 



A "Devil Dog's" Story 35 

The detachment of marines arrived after wc 
had been in these trenches for sixteen days. Wc 
now outnumbered the Germans so we speedily 
put them to flight. After the conflict we counted 
421 German dead bodies and we also took 1200 
prisoners. Our loss was 62 dead and 30 slightly 
wounded. We were then sent to a rest camp 
where we spent two weeks, and I had my wound 
treated. At the end of our two weeks I was able 
to walk about, and was sent to the western front 
near Cambrai where the Germans were gain- 
ing, and we were instructed to stop them. 

This time we did not fight from the trenches 
but in the open field, and there were plenty of 
human targets for both sides. It was a terrible 
battle; shells were bursting in the air, cannons 
were roaring and there were loud reports every 
time a shell hit the dust. I was operating a 
machine gun, and, as a machine gunner's life 
on a battlefield only lasted an average of twelve 
minutes, it must have been a miracle that saved 
me from being killed. My other two comrades 
were killed immediately and I was left alone 
to operate the gun. A German sniper took a 
shot at me but instead of hitting me he put my 
gun out of order. That left me with only a 
revolver, and drawing this I kept popping away 
at every German I saw. At last we were given 



36 Allied Overseas Stories 

the order to advance and for the third time I 
went over the top to glory. As we pressed on 
the enemy gave way little by little, and by twelve 
o'clock, at noon, (the battle had started the day 
before at the same hour), we had either killed 
or taken all our opponents prisoners. We were 
then given a much needed rest. We spent a 
month in a rest camp and were then sent to 
Chateau Thierry about forty miles from Paris, 
where we engaged in a battle which proved to 
be the turning point of the war. I think I shall 
remember this fight all my life. We had drawn 
up all our ammunition trains, food supplies and 
other munitions and were gathered around our 
campfires telling stories. At a little past mid- 
night we were told to get ready. I was in the 
second division and we were ordered to advance 
first. Suddenly someone fired a shot; whether it 
came from our lines or the enemy I did not 
know. The battle had begun. With two hun- 
dred others I was cut off, and we found our- 
selves surrounded by the enemy. It was all 
hand-to-hand fighting, and more than once, I 
felt a hand, creep to my neck, or a cold blade 
touch my face, but always managed to ward 
it off. Five hours of hard fighting still found 
us in the midst of the Germans. Whispering a 
few words to my nearest companion, we made a 



A "Devil Dog's" Story 37 

dash and cut our way through the thick masses 
of the enemy. Having no cover, we gathered 
together the bodies of German dead and piled 
them one upon the other and used them as pro- 
tection against our enemies. While here a gas 
bomb exploded and I fell back unconscious. 
When I came to myself I was aboard a ship 
bound for the good old U. S. A. As I was so 
badly gassed that I would no longer be useful 
as a fighter, they were sending me home. I made 
a good recovery and I thank God for my life. 

That is my story, and if I had to go through 
it again I would do it gladly for my country and 
the flag. 




CORPOKAl, FRANK 8£ABS 



THE HUN I WAS SURE I ^^GOT'^ 

By Corp. Frank Sears, Co. A, 9th Inf., 2nd 
Div., A.E.F. 

It was sometime last April, 1917, when we 
got the order we were going over. Our artillery 
opened up with a full barrage. We took the 
right flank, and another regiment of Infantry 
took the left. The Marines took the centre. We 
had been told time and time again if we had to 
use the bayonet to pull it out quick. But some- 
how or other I was doubtful about that. We 
were having a real American hand to hand fight 
with them when I got my eye on one, some- 
thing we very seldom do. Just as I got near 
him he threw his gun down, and his hands up, 
and yelled: "Kamerad, Kamerad.'* I said 
"Kamerad," "Hell," and became so excited I 
gave him a long jab with my old American 
bayonet and hesitated before making an attempt 
to pull it out. When I tried to, it was too late 
for it was wedged in too firmly. I put my foot 
on him and pulled and pulled but the body lifted 
right up with the bayonet so I thought I'd try my 

39 



40 \LLiED Overseas Stories 

luck without St bayonet. I released the bayonet 
from my rifle and left it as an American souvenir 
to the Fritz ; one which he will never be able to 
appreciate. This is all I remember of that 
battle. 



IN THE VERDUN SECTOR 

By Corp. Frank Sears 

In the winter of 1917 we found ourselves 
marching along a little road somewhere in 
France. It was cold and dismal and the hail 
came down in sheets, but we marched on and 
on. I looked at the fellow alongside of me and 
could not tell whether he was ready to laugh 
or cry. There was not much talking en route. 
I didn't feel much like talking myself and 
couldn't understand what made me feel so down- 
hearted. It was the day we all looked and hoped 
for our chance in the battle. When we took 
over our sector, one kilometer from St. Mihiel, 
the French told us it was a quiet sector and to 
keep it that way. The first four days we did 
not care how quiet it was so long as we were 
allowed down in the dugouts. The shells whiz- 
zing past our heads annoyed us a little, it being 
our first experience. It took us a few days to 
become accustomed to our new home and the 
noise of bursting shrapnel. We knew we were 
not going to stay there long. In the American 

41 



42 Allied Overseas Stories 

Army we never do linger long in one place as 
there is no retreat in our army. 

There was only one direction for us to follow 
and that was toward Berlin. 

The idea of the French telling us to keep Ver- 
dun sector quiet amused us, for, while we had no 
desire to start anything for a few days, there 
wasn't a "yellow" man in our bunch. Yet we 
hesitated, before we became accustomed to the 
noise, to take our first chance at, what we termed, 
slaughter. However one night, about seven 
days after we took over our sector with the 
French Army, a Fritz sent over one of his 77's 
shrapnel shells which wiped out our entire mess 
shack. That was a bad mistake on Fritzie's part 
for it was a serious offense for anybody to tamper 
with the Sammie's "chow." No matter how 
hard a night he has spent he will always get up 
an appetite where there is anything to eat. That 
night we formed a raiding party. We crept 
out of the first line trench with three squads. It 
was our first entry into No Man's Land and we 
had heard so many strange tales about this place, 
we shied at everything we saw. We split up into 
squads. Our password was to knock three times 
on the helmet. So we parted. I went off to the 
right with a squad. Each man covered his 
ground, trying to find out whether the Hun had 



In the Verdon Sector 43 

any intention of making a raid next day. The 
trenches are protected by barbed wire fences and 
when the Huns intend going over the top they 
cut the wires on the previous night, and it was 
our duty to find out whether or not these wires 
had been cut. The barbed wire was O. K. on 
the ground we covered, so we started back to 
meet the other squads. We did not go far, for 
about ten feet away, we heard a noise, which 
is something unusual on a raiding party in No 
Man's Land. We stopped short and looked at 
each other. We did not know what to do, for, 
as I have said, this was our first experience. One 
of the boys said to me, "Give them the signal." 
I knocked three times on my helmet, but re- 
ceived no reply, so one of the boys said he would 
creep over and investigate ; but it wasn't neces- 
sary, because just then a sky rocket went up into 
the air. Every soldier knows that this means 
to get under cover quickly for the rocket would 
light up the sky and make nice targets of us for 
"Fritz." Luckily for us there was a shell hole 
to jump into, for as soon as we laid low, there 
came the "pop," "pop," "pop," of the German 
machine guns. We laid there in the mud, 
through what seemed to us like an eternity, but 
which was in reality only about two hours. 
However, luck was with us, and we finally 



44 Allied Overseas Stories 

crawled out of our hiding place and arrived be- 
hind our own lines once more. 

Editor's note:— For his gallantry in this 
raid, of which he says nothing in the above ar- 
ticle, Corp. Sears was awarded the "Croix dc 
Guerre" by the French Government. 

— H. L. F. 



LIFE IN THE TRENCHES 
By Corp. Frank Sears 

Life in the trenches is made up of "cooties," 
"rats," "mud" and "gas masks." 

We had heard from fellows who had been 
there before us what we thought were jokes 
about "cooties" and trench rats, but it was no 
joke to me when I looked, for the first time, at 
a rat almost as big as a cat. It was lying in 
my bunk and I heard it squeal. Looking down 
I had my first view of a trench rat. I threw 
a heavy hob-nailed shoe at him and he merely 
changed his position and looked around to see 
who had interrupted him. After that it wasn't 
strange to wake up and find him running across 
you. But I will say that if it were a matter of 
choice, I would select a hundred rats in pref- 
erence to two cooties, for. the cootie is an un- 
reasonable bird, and when a Sammie has come 
back from the lines exhausted, he lays down in 
the hopes of snatching a few hours sleep before 
being called on ; but the cooties have no respect 

45 



46 Allied Overseas Stories 

for Sammie and they pester him until he has 
no more idea of sleep, only to start in and hunt 
for the "cooties" that are annoying him. 

You have all more or less had fever, but I 
guess there are none of you, over here, who 
knows of the "mud fever." We all used to shy 
at mud, during the rainy season in the year 1917. 
After a heavy storm the boys hated to go out 
to drill, as the mud got so bad there that the 
only way of getting out from the drill was by 
going on sick report in the morning. I remem- 
ber the morning six Buddies and myself went 
over to the infirmary. I happened to be the first 
one in line. The doctor came up to me and said : 

"What's your trouble?" 

At first I said, "I don't know. Sir," and he 
said: 

"Well, what are you doing here if you don't 
know? Where do you feel sick?" 

And I told him all over. So he called the pill 
roller over and told him to take my tempera- 
ture. I sat down and the pill roller put the glass 
tube in my mouth, which always "balled the de- 
tail up." He then held hands with me for 
awhile and I asked him what he was doing. He 
told me he was taking my pulse. He then gave 
the final report to the "skipper" who came to 
me and said, "You have the ^mud fever'." He 



Life in the Trenches 47 

then turned to the orderly and said, ^^Give him 
two C.C. pills and mark him "DUTY." That's 
how I happened to get over the mud fever. We 
became so used to mud, up in the lines, that if 
our chow did not have some mud, or muddy 
water, in it we could not digest it. It was just 
a case of mud all over: eat, drink, sleep and wash 
in mud. 

And now for the "old reliable," which tor- 
tured us while wearing it, but without which 
we should have been lost. The gas mask!!! 

We were not fortunate enough to have ever 
received the American gas masks and have 
never seen one over there. The first two Amer- 
ican divisions received English, and French, 
masks. The English mask looks like a false face 
with two big glass eyes, and a nose clip which 
resembles a clothespin, and keeps the gas from 
going through the nostrils. There is also a tube 
which goes into the mouth, with a hard piece of 
rubber on it to make it air tight. This mouth- 
piece is a long caterpillar tube which connects 
the mask to a tin can containing a chemical com- 
position of charcoal, rocks, sand and other medi- 
cal decoctions. There were times when we 
endured these masks from eighteen to thirty-six 
hours. Sometimes we would just get the order 
to take them off, and, thinking the danger passed, 



48 Allied Overseas Stories 

would get ready to eat, when the command to 
put them on again would be given. This is done 
by means of horns at intervals along the whole 
line of the trenches. Each horn gives the signal 
which is repeated right through the lines. It 
is a wonderful relief after having a mask on a 
long time to be able to breathe fresh air again. 

Corp. Frank Sears. 




PRIVATE A. F. EDWARDS 



TWO YEARS IN THE YPRES SALIENT 

As told by Private Albert Franklin 

Edwards, No. 6857, ist Battalion, ist 

Brigade, ist Div., Canadian Infantry 

I was born in Canada but had lived, vir- 
tually, all my life in the United States. I 
thought war was coming and returned to Can- 
ada to be ready to do my bit when the time 
arrived; and I was just in time; arriving in 
Toronto on August 3rd, 19 14. On August 4th, 
19 14, I was at dinner with seven other boys 
when the word came that war v/as declared, and 
the whole eight of us determined to get in it 
without delay, so on the next day, August 5th, 
we enlisted in the Canadian dragoons. 

After two weeks in the dragoons I was trans- 
ferred to the infantry, went into training at 
Toronto, and afterward at Valcartier which 
occupied the next two months. 

One Sunday morning we were called for 
parade and thought we were going to church but 
were notified we had to pack up for overseas 
service. We went to Montreal where we took 

49 



50 Allied Overseas Stories 

a boat down the St. Lawrence to Halifax. We 
there joined the convoy consisting of 33,000 men 
of the artillery and infantry. 

We sailed for England on October 22nd, 
1914, and as nearly as I can remember took about 
sixteen days to make the trip to Plymouth, 
Though slow, the voyage was without incident 
worthv of mention. 

We were, for some unknown reason, held five 
days in Plymouth Harbor before disembarking, 
and then they hustled us off to the training camp 
on Salisbury Plains where we had a miserable 
existence until February, 1915. 

At Salisbury we drilled in mud and water 
that was at times waist deep, caused by the con- 
tinuous rains and floods. It sure was fine train- 
ing for the Flanders mud that we were to 
encounter later. The storms were so severe at 
times that tents and their contents were washed 
away. 

As a result an epidemic of spinal meningitis 
hit the camp, and of the 33,000 who arrived at 
Salisbury 4,400 were stricken with this disease, 
onlv a few of whom recovered. 



Editor^s note: — ^These were the first Can- 
adians to go overseas in the Great War. 

H. L. F. 



In the Ypres Salient 51 

While at Salisbury I was granted my first 
leave and started for London, together with my 
pal, a boy named Frazer, who also had leave. 
We had three days absence from camp coming 
to us and they were "some three days." 

We arrived in London at 5.15 P. M. and, in 
accord with English custom, had tea at once 
in the Corner House, Picadilly, where many 
soldiers congregated. 

At the Corner House we received sixty-one 
invitations to the theatre and dinner for the next 
day. That night we attended the Princess The- 
atre where, as we entered, the orchestra played 
the Canadian anthem, ''The Maple Leaf For- 
ever." The audience cheered and we were 
forced to make a speech. You see we were the 
first Canadians the English people had seen who 
had come to do their bit. That night I lost track 
of Frazer. 

After three wonderful days I returned to 
camp as my leave had expired. Frazer was not 
on the train with me and as a matter of fact did 
not arrive until twenty-four hours later. He was 
called before the Colonel for overstaying his 
leave, and, on being questioned, told the Colonel 
that just as he arrived at the R: R. station a band 
started playing God Save the King and he had 



52 Allied Overseas Stories 

to stand at attention so long that he missed the 
train. 

He was excused and returned to duty, but they 
do say there was a suspicious twinkle in the 
Colonel's eye as he dismissed him. I sometimes 
wish I had Frazer's powers of quick invention. 

On February 3rd we left Salisbury encamp- 
ment, en route for France, landing at St. La- 
zarre, thence by train to Hazebrouck and St. 
Omer where the fever laid me up in the hospital 
for about ten days. 

I joined the Battalion again at Armentieres 
where we remained a few days and then went 
forward to Ypres. On April 22nd, 1915, we 
went into battle at Ypres and for the first time in 
history were called upon to meet a gas attack by 
the Germans. 

Editor's note: — This was the first time this 
inhuman method of warfare was used by a sup- 
posedly civilized nation. 

H. L. F. 

At first we thought the gas we saw coming 
toward us was a bank of fog and it gave us no 
anxiety. It was at 4.30 P. M. that the Huns 
turned the gas on us, and I was fortunate to be 
in the first Battalion at a point where the gas 
was not so thick. The thickest part of the gas 



In the Ypres Salient 53 

swept over the 8th, loth, nth, 13th, 14th, 15th 
and 1 6th Battalions. Eighty- five per cent of the 
men who met this attack were more or less 
severely gassed. At points the gas was so severe 
that it turned the brass buttons, on the tunics of 
the men, green. Some of the men killed by gas 
fell, but some remained standing even in death 
so swift was its action. 

Our artillery, although short of ammunition, 
were our main support in this action. Had the 
Germans forced a passage here the roads to 
Paris, Calais and the English coast would have 
been virtually open. There were 72,000 Ger- 
mans opposed to 13,000 Canadian Infantry in 
this action, but the boys from Canada held fast. 

The next day, April 23rd, a small fragment 
of shrapnel in my right hand sent me to the hos- 
pital in Boulogne. Fine treatment by the 
American doctors and nurses there soon had me 
in shape agaip and I was returned to the line 
through the Canadian base at Le Havre. Thence 
I went through Festubert to Givenchy where 
the old I St Battalion went into battle with 919 
men and six hours later over six hundred had 
made the great sacrifice. Minor casualties left 
us only one hundred and thirty-seven men able 
to answer roll call and several of these had to 



54 Allied Overseas Stories 

go to the hospital on account of wounds received 
here. 

The first week of July we went to Ploegstreet 
which we called ^'home" for a long time. We 
called Ploegstreet "home" because it was so 
peaceful. (The Germans dared not shell us as 
we were so close to their trenches that they were 
afraid of hitting their own men.) The shell 
craters through which our trenches ran was only 
thirteen yards from the trenches of the enemy, 
and we could hear the Saxons who opposed us 
singing songs in English which they all seemed 
to speak fluently. 

One night I was on patrol when our party 
passed German patrol not five yards distant. 
Neither side dared fire for fear of starting the 
machine gun fire. One of the Saxons called out, 
"Hello Canuck, how's Quebec, Winnipeg and 
Vancouver?" 

Evidently he had been in Quebec as he spoke 
of the St. Regis Hotel. 

At Ploegstreet the British had started a "sap" 
48 feet deep where a tunnel, with twenty-five 
galleries running off from it, undermined the 
town. It took two years to build and was 
planted with one hundred thousand tons of high 
explosive dynamite. When it was exploded it 



In the Ypres Salient 55 

blew up the entire town and also blew sixty-one 
thousand Huns ^^Hell, west and crooked.'' 

This was the only way to take the position as 
the elaborate trench system of the Germans was 
practically impregnable. It was at Ploegstreet 
that the Huns "got our goat" by showing the 
wearing apparel of Belgian girls on the points 
of their bayonets. 

After exploding the mine we explored the 
German trenches and found most wonderful 
underground living quarters for the troops fitted 
with every modern convenience. 

We remained here three and a half months 
and then were moved to Kemmel to the C-4 
trenches, where we spent the winter. Here I 
was taken sick and sent to the hospital at Bail- 
leu, and returned to duty again at Cambrai, and 
thence went to St. Quentin. 

Remained at St. Quentin until September 17, 
when I had a piece of shrapnel lodge in my arm 
and was burned by a shell while trying a dig 
out a comrade in a similar predicament, except 
that he died before we got him out. I was 
buried, but conscious, for four hours and 
twenty minutes, and I thought of every event of 
my life in that time. When finally rescued, the 
fresh air and reaction were too much for me, 
and I lost consciousness which I did not regain 



56 Allied Overseas Stories 

until I was in England in the Dutchess of Con- 
naught's Hospital. I had been sent there by way 
of Le Havre and remained six months in bed in 
a plaster cast. I was then returned to a hospital 
ship and taken to St. John, New Brunswick, 
where I received electrical and massage treat- 
ment. From St. John I went to the convalescent 
hospital at Fredericton, N. B., and was dis- 
charged on August 19th, 1918. 



A NIGHT ADVENTURE 

As told by Private Albert Franklin Ed- 
wards, No. 6857, I St Batt., I St Brigade, 
I St Division, Canadian Infantry 

One night in October, 191 5, while on patrol, 
I found an officer, and a private, of the Prus- 
sian Guard, fooling around our wire entangle- 
ments. They had evidently been under our fire 
as the oSicer was suffering from three abdominal 
wounds and died as I was trying to drag him 
into our lines. 

The private was a big fellow about six feet, 
three inches tall and was furious at being cap- 
tured. As I had him at my bayonet's point he 
gave me no trouble, but when we arrived at our 
lines he took it out on the sentry by spitting at 
him and slapping him in the face. 

We sat Mr. Prussian on the firing step and 
told him a few things that would not look well 
in this book, and he finally spoke in English, 
when we called the escort to get what informa- 
tion we could from him. He asked after some 
friends he had made at Columbia College, New 
York City, where he had been educated. He 

S7 



58 Allied Overseas Stories 

told us that just before the war broke out he 
had been called back to Germany, supposedly 
to attend a military fete, as he was still sub- 
ject to military service. He had no idea, he 
said, that he was going to be sent to war and 
he had been drugged and sent into battle, forced 
on by officers in the rear. After we had "pumped 
him dry" he was handed over, together with 
fourteen other prisoners, who were taken the 
same night, and sent to the cage, four miles to 
the rear. On the way to the cage he complained 
to a soldier, in the guard accompanying the 
prisoners, of the difficulty of marching through 
the mud, which was very deep. The guard told 
him he should be thankful that he was not in 
his (the guard's) place, as he had to walk back 
again. 

I should have stated before that I cut off 
the buttons from the officer's uniform when he 
died and kept them together with his field 
glasses as souvenirs. I have them still as no one 
has claimed them. 




MACHINE GUNNER GEORGE ECKHART 



A MACHINE GUNNER'S STORY 

By Machine Gunner George Eckhart, No. 
165688, ist M. G. Batt, ist Div., A.E.F. 

I enlisted in the service of my country April 6, 
1917, when we declared war on Germany. I 
was sent to Fort Douglas, Arizona, in the same 
month, put in the i8th Infantry, Regular Army. 

In June 4th, 1917, we got orders to pack up 
and leave for another camp, and one night when 
our train came to a halt I got up from bed and 
said to the boys: 

"Boys, we are in Hoboken" and we all knew 
then where we were going. 

We got on the transports the same night about 
eleven o'clock. There were a lot of sad faces 
watching their dear boys going "Over There" 
to fight to make the world safe for Democracy. 

We sailed away from dear old America, June 
14, 1917. When we passed the Statue of Liberty 
we watched her holding the light of freedom 
and strained our eyes as our transport moved 
out into the ocean for a last look at her, wonder- 

59 



6o Allied Overseas Stories 

ing if wc would ever see that dear old Statue of 
Liberty again. 

We had a pleasant, fourteen day trip across 
the ocean. And one bright morning we saw 
land. All the boys shouted ^Trance, we have 
come to you." Four hours later we were beside 
our dock, and got off the boats. All the French 
people kissed us and were glad to see America 
come to help her sister republic. 

The French people shouted "Vive la Amer- 
ica." We shouted back ^'Vive La France." We 
had a big reception and the peasants took us 
around and showed us the villages. 

We did not stay there long, but moved toward 
the front where we could hear the thundering 
of the artillery Barrages. We had two months 
of strenuous training with the French Blue 
Devils. 

After completing our training period we got 
orders that we were going to go to the front. 
One day, before we left to undertake the biggest 
job in the world, our general (General Bul- 
lard) held an inspection, and gave us a talk. 

He said, "Boys, you are going to tackle a real 
job tomorrow, and show the Huns what kind 
of stuff the Yanks are made of." 

All of the boys yelled "We are with you gen- 
eral until the end. We are going to give them 



A Machine Gunner's Story 6i 

Hell ! and, we won't go back until it's over, over 
here." 

The next day we were ready to move to the 
front. The Colonel gave the command, and we 
marched ofif. We had to walk fifty miles. 

As we came nearer and nearer to the front, 
the guns were roaring and machine guns rattled 
away like fire. The first division, consisting of 
the 1 8th Infantry, 26th Infantry, i6th and i8th 
Infantry, started to sing, "Hail, Hail the Gangs 
All Here!" At last we arrived at the front. 
Our French comrades hailed us, and were sur- 
prised and overjoyed to see the Yanks coming 
to relieve them and give them a rest. 

Company after company moved in and re- 
lieved the French division and as they moved 
out they bid us all the luck in the world. 

This front was the Lorraine front, Luneville 
Sector. The next day, October 14th, 1917, our 
artillery fired the first shells into the German 
trenches. 

The Germans got kind of restless and won- 
dered who was facing them. They sent out a 
patrolling party to gather information. But we 
boys were a little too wise and our patrol party 
captured this German party and brought them 
in. When they came in our trenches they asked 
us v/ho we were. T spoke up and said, "We are 



62 Allied Overseas Stories 

Americans" and the German officer who spoke 
a little English said, "No! No I you are not an 
American. You are English in American uni- 
forms." But they soon found out that we were 
Americans and we did "treat 'em rough!" 

I was now transferred to a machine gun com- 
pany and was on duty one night about 11.30. It 
was very cold. My loader Frank Martin and 
I were talking quietly about our dear homes 
across the sea. Suddenly the German machine 
guns opened up and we ducked down in our 
own gun emplacement and could hear the bul- 
lets hissing over our heads. Then it was silent 
again. We knew the Huns were getting restless 
so our signal captain sent up a "very light" 
which lights up No Man's Land. And we saw 
about 5,000 Prussian guards coming at us with 
bayonets fixed. I held fast to my trigger, wait- 
ing for orders. 

The lieutenant came to me and said, "George, 
don't get nervous. We are going to get them in 
a trap." And I said: 

"Lieutenant, do you think I will ever see the 
Statue of Liberty again?" 

He said, "Cheer up, George, I will send the 
order soon." 

So they fired another "very light" and there 



A Machine Gunner's Story 63 

they were 100 yards from where I was stationed. 
All was quiet. We kept still as mice. 

Then suddenly a big red rocket went up 
which called for an artillery barrage and I 
heard the shells of our artillery firing behind 
the Germans so they could not go back to their 
own lines. This was followed by two red rock- 
ets, meaning direct fire from our own machine 
guns. And then I yelled, ^^Here's where the sui- 
cide club shines," and opened up. 

We gave them all the "presents" they wanted. 
My machine gun was red hot, and my hands 
were burning, but I didn't mind that. We were 
going to get them and give them what they de- 
served. 

We gave them "sweeping fire" and mowed 
them down like grass. Daylight came and there 
were the Prussian Guards in big piles, dead and 
wounded. We certainly did catch them in a 
trap. 

That morning I went into the dugout and we 
boys sat around on bundles of straw and sang 
some songs and told stories and jokes. 

When the mail man would come around with 
the letters from home, we would gather around 
him and listen for our names to be called. 

The boys that got letters from their dear 
mothers had smiles on their faces and were 
happy, knowing their mothers were thinking of 



64 Allied Overseas Stories 

them. And those that didn't get letters were sad 
and disgusted and would have tears rolling 
down their cheeks. 

We stayed on that front two months. Christ- 
mas was on its way, and we went back for a 
rest. At Christmas time all the boys gave 10 
francs (2 dollars, U. S. money) to give the little 
children of France, a real American Christmas. 

After six days of preparation, we went to the 
Salvation Army hut and had a big entertain- 
ment. Elsie Janis was the chief entertainer. 
After the entertainment was over we all returned 
to bed. 

The next day the church bells rang out and 
the little children ran about wild with joy. The 
Yankee soldiers gave the children candy, cakes, 
pies and other little presents and they could not 
get over it, as they never had a Christmas like 
that before. 



Editor's note: — ^The simple pathos of this 
story so appealed to me, that, knowing no words 
of mine could so vividly depict the feelings of 
this hero, I have given it to the readers of the 
book without revision. I simply desire to add 
that the action which he describes in the above 
story was the first of the Great War participated 
in by American Troops. 

H. L, F. 



THE FALL OF CANTIGNY 

By Machine Gunner George Eckhart 

Before proceeding with my second story, 1 
wish to state that Cantigny Village was the first 
town ever captured by the American Troops 
in this war, and also the first battle we ever had. 
My Division, the ^^First," known all over France 
as the "Black Jack" Division, was named after 
General "Black Jack" Pershing. 

After leaving Lorraine Front and spending 
Christmas behind the lines, we were ordered to 
a more active front in Picardy, where some of 
the biggest battles have taken place during this 
great war. 

We relieved the 2nd French Colonial Divi- 
sion and took over their sector. We faced the 
town Cantigny, which is situated twenty miles 
northwest of Montdidier. 

This town was hard to take, as there were 
two Prussian Guard Divisions against one Yan- 
kee Division. 

Our General said, "Boys, we are going to take 
that town and we will take it inside of seventy- 

65 



66 Allied Overseas Stories 

two hours." Us boys all felt proud and were 
ready to go^'Over the Top" anytime the order 
came. 

Jimmy Doyle, the loader on my machine gun, 
was the youngest boy in the Battalian, and he 
was kind of nervous when he knew we were 
going "Over the Top" in seventy-two hours. He 
sat down in the dugout, writing a letter to his 
dear mother, while the shells and shrapnel going 
over our heads. He expected a letter from his 
mother for three months but never received it 

So little Jimmie put in his letter, "Mother I 
am writing you this letter and it may be the 
last as I am going "Over the Top" for the first 
time, and I am going to do my bit even if I am 
only seventeen years old. I wrote you ten letters 
and you have not written me one, so mother 
dear, please write your little Jimmie a letter. 
Good bye and God bless you. Jimmie." 

The seventy-two hours had come and it was 
growing dark. We had extra ammunition 
stacked beside our machine gun, ready to open 
fire on the Huns. "Little Jimmie" worked hard 
stacking up the ammunition. The Infantry was 
"standing to" waiting for the word. 

Everything was quiet. We had five minutes 
to think of our people back home. "Little 
Jimmie" said to me: 



The Fall of Cantigny 67 

^^George, you were one of my best friends. 
I am a kid, but if I get killed, tell my mother I 
died for her and the Stars and Stripes." 

The time had come and the French tanks had 
started their engines. The red rocket went up. 
Our artillery laid down their barrage and we 
opened rapid fire with our machine guns. 
"Little Jimmie" was feeding the gun like a 
veteran. 

Shells were whistling all around us. The cap- 
tains of all Infantry companies yelled "Over the 
Top with the best of luck and give them Hell. 
Up and at 'em, boys!" 

And when they went over the boys yelled and 
cheered, rushing onward to the Hun trenches, 
"Remember the Lusitania," "Remember the 
Antilles," "Remember the U. S.," "Remember 
dear President Wilson and the stars and stripes." 

They kept on gaining, facing death and dan- 
ger. We followed them up with our machine 
guns. The Huns started with their artillery. 
They thought they could stop us but they 
couldn't. We always had our jSghting spirit 
with us. 

The German Prussian Guards came over to 
meet us. Our Infantry went at 'em, facing them. 
Some yelled, "Kamerad," but that didn't go with 
us. We gave them the cold steel instead. We 



68 Allied Overseas Stories 

had 500 yards to go to before we could take 
Cantigny. ^'Little Jimmie" Doyle was working 
hard at the gun and he would say, ^^I wonder 
if my mother is thinking of me." We kept 
moving' our gun and giving them all they 
wanted. All of a sudden "Little Jimmie" fell 
with a Hun machine gun bullet through his 
head. The blood was pouring down his cheek. 
I went to him, gave him my first aid packet with 
bandages, put it around his head, — but in vain. 
He was taking his last breath. He said: 
"George, good bye, I knew this was my day," 
He wanted to say a few more words, but 
could not. He lay still without breathing. He 
was dead, and he died with a smile on his lips. 
The poor lad was always happy and had a smile 
for whoever he met. "Little Jimmie" died for 
his country and died a man. 

After taking Jimmie away I ran back to my 
machine gun. The Prussians were coming over, 
driving back the infantry. They overpowered 
us but the machine gunners all said: "We arc 
going to hold this line until the Infantry gets 
reinforcements." We eight machine gunners 
were checking the Germans finally. Now and 
then we stopped firing. Then the Huns would 
rush at us, thinking that they had killed us but 
we were very much alive and as soon as they 



The Fall of Cantigny 69 

advanced a hundred yards or so, we would open 
up our machine guns again and give 'em Hell. 
Four of the machine gunners were killed and it 
was up to the remaining four to hold them back 
until the Infantry came. 

Our ammunition was getting low and I was 
shot through my leg by a high explosive shrap- 
nel, but I kept on with my machine gun until 
our Infantry came up with the reinforcements, 
and went over with a yell and chased the Huns 
back and captured Cantigny. We got that town 
in two and a half hours. 

My leg was bleeding and I had an awful pain 
but I stuck to it. We went into the Hun 
trenches, which we had captured, and there I 
was treated by the Red Cross dressing station 
and then we went in and brought out the Ger- 
man prisoners who were hiding in the dugouts, 
and cellars, of the town. 

Then the Germans, who were driven back to 
their reserve trenches, wanted to get square on 
us, and fired over the poisonous gas. We got 
the signal and put our masks on, and kept them 
on for seventy-two hours. Mine was an old mask 
and it began to leak, until suddenly I fell, and 
was unconscious for twenty-four hours. When 
I awoke I was in the hospital, in a nice white 
bed such as I had not been in for ten months. 



70 Allied Overseas Stories 

Oh ! didn't I sleep. They couldn't get me up for 
anything. 

I was nursed back to health, and, when I went 
back to the front, they had a great surprise for 
me. I was summoned to General Headquarters 
and there I was awarded the French war cross, 
or "Croix de Guerre," for heroism during the 
battle of Cantigny. We all sang the song of 
songs, "Over There," by the Yankee Doodle 
Boy, George M. Cohan. We used this song all 
the time when we would march into battle, and 
sang it again when we came out victorious. 

Then I was sent home to dear America and 
my people were more than pleased to see me 
march in a hero from "Over There." 

Then they had me talking for the Knights of 
Columbus drive. Liberty Loan; also the United 
War Work Campaign. The American people 
may well be proud when their sons and sweet- 
hearts come marching home victorious, — as they 
all fought well to make the world safe and a 
decent place to live in. 

George Eckhart. 



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SEKGT. T. S. GRUNDY 



THE RETREAT FROM MONS 

By Sergt. T. S. Grundy 

I was one of the first 100,000 men of British 
Expeditionary Force, sent to Belgium in Au- 
gust, 1914. The great retreat from Mons and 
the different battles (rear guard actions), that 
took place afterward were some of the worst 
and fiercest actions that the British Forces ever 
fought. Of course we know that not so many 
guns were used and nothing like the barrage that 
is put down now-a-days, but it was hard and 
severe fighting with hardships that are no longer 
necessary to-day. The Lewis machine gun, and 
the new types today, were not known then. We 
went to the field with the old Maxim type used 
in previous warfare. Such was the equipment 
of the first 100,000 men of British Expeditionary 
Forces. Our forces were spread out on a twenty- 
two mile front. Just a mere handful of men, 
that, without a doubt, saved Europe from Prus- 
sian rule ; although thousands do not realize this. 
If the enemy had known of the weakness of our 
forces he would have walked across Belgium 

71 



72 Allied Overseas Stories 

and France. However, the enemy under- 
estimated our forces, and the stubborn and de- 
termined fight of, what the Kaiser called, Eng- 
land's ^'Contemptible Little Army" saved the 
situation. At Mons it was a case of, if the enemy 
broke through the line, there were no reserves 
to bring up, so, officer and man alike, we stood 
to the last. When the enemy broke through in 
certain parts of the lines— then came the hard 
fighting. 'Tritz" would break through on the 
left fiank and endeavor to cut us off, then came 
the time man after man went down, and, slowly, 
we had to retreat assisted by cavalry, against, 
literally speaking, hordes and hordes of Ger- 
many's best soldiers. Some companies were not 
so fortunate, being completely surrounded, and 
annihilated, or taken prisoners, very few escap- 
ing to tell the tale, and those that escaped to the 
woods had no rations, and lived like savages, 
on anything that could be found. 

Unfortunately not many of these men are alive 
today, being afterwards captured by the enemy 
and killed by ill-treatment in interment camps, 
or starved to death in the woods. It was when 
the retreat was looking very serious, and no re- 
serves forthcoming, that the most wonderful and 
thrilling incidents of the war occurred, and this 
is vouched for by all who were there. When 



The Retreat from Mons 73 

comrades were falling, one after the other, and 
the Germans advancing in great masses. Angels 
appeared from the skies and seemed to stop the 
approach of the enemy. They appeared to fall 
back temporarily in sheer disorder. This was 
only a temporary collapse, but it gave time for 
better preparations on our part, and this is what 
saved us from being wiped out, as reserves were 
forthcoming afterwards. An incident of the 
enemy's method of warfare by unscrupulous 
means, came to my notice. We would not have 
lost half the men we did, at Mons, if it had not 
been for this. It was the fault of a French 
colonel who was under the influence of his wife, 
a German woman, a spy of the German empire, 
and she so used her influence over her husband, 
that he kept back two or three regiments of re- 
serves for three days, under the pretext of resting 
them, when they might have been up and prob- 
ably saved the situation. This colonel was after- 
wards court-martialed and shot: Lord Kitchener 
coming from England to investigate this. We 
might not have lost the men we did but for this. 
Our enemy as we have seen all through the 
war has used these unscrupulous methods. We 
lost 60,000 out of 100,000 I St B. E. F. Over half 
our army was taken prisoners, killed and 
wounded. Out of my battalion there were 
twenty-eight survivors — I being one of them. 



74 Allied Overseas Stories 

After Mons came the great battle of Ypres, 
in which our regiment took part. Things were 
nearly always very brisk in this sector of the line. 
I remember one particular night, my chum and 
I were out on listening posts when my chum 
thought he saw the enemy advancing. I looked 
and could not see them. He started making a 
row, and I warned him to be quiet, but he didn't 
heed me, when suddenly he went down mortally 
wounded. I dived to the ground, and in diving 
iny hands came in contact with a man who had 
probably been dead some days. This was not 
an unusual occurrence. About Sept. 15, when 
^we were up at Ypres again there was a party of 
fus who went on a bombing raid one night 
Nearly every night a bombing party went out 
into "No Man's Land." At this particular time, 
however, we were returning from a bombing 
raid, perhaps without as much caution as usual, 
when a shell burst right among us, killing every 
man except myself and a chum, who was badly 
wounded. I, however, found I had escaped with 
but a few scratches, and taking along my chum 
who had a bad wound in the leg, managed, after 
much trouble, to return to our lines. My chum, 
not being able to walk, made it difficult for me. 
I had to carry him back, and to look out for 
"whizz-bangs," and avoid tumbling into shell 



The Retreat from Mons 75 

holes. The weather at this time of the year was 
very bad. Raw and cold weather, up to our 
knees in mud and water, stuck in the trenches, 
day after day, and week after week. Such is 
trench life in winter time. But when spring- 
time came again, then things started to ^'liven 
up." ^Tritz" was at it again. Our battalion 
was up at Ypres Salient, where a terrific artil- 
lery duel was being put up at the time. Shells 
were dropping all around, star shells illumi- 
nated the skys, and the word was passed around 
for getting ready to go "Over the Top." 

It was dawn, and, the rum ration having been 
handed around, the order was given, and over 
we went. Some were just up and over and down 
they went. I remember our captain was one of 
the first to fall. His words as he fell were: 
"Carry on Boys, don't mind me," and the bo3^s 
carried on. All I could see before me was blood. 
It seemed as if I had no other object in mind but 
to kill. Such were my feelings as we went over. 
We hadn't advanced above 300 yards when a 
bullet whizzed too close for my liking, and, 
turning my head, I saw my chum fall, and 
dozens of others, but our orders were ''carry on," 
and get our objective. Next our First Lieu- 
tenant fell and mustering us together, our re- 
maining Lieutenant, a mere youth of eighteen 



76 Allied Overseas Stories 

years, and a small handful of men, reached our 
position, not without severe loss of life. I re- 
member one little incident. A German officer 
lying severely v^ounded, called in almost perfect 
English for a drink. One of the boys, (prob- 
ably a little more human than some of us) went 
to give him a drink out of his water bottle. Then 
the Prussian officer drew his revolver and shot 
this boy. Those who witnessed the incident, I 
being amongst them, made short work of the 
Prussian beast, but this incident goes to show 
the Prussians' hate of his enemy. 

The Saxon troops are the most civilized of 
the bunch. An incident of just the opposite, I 
witnessed down at the Somme. A wounded 
German soldier called for water to drink and 
one of our Tommies kind-heartedly went and 
gave it to him. They conversed for a minute 
or two. The German spoke in broken English. 
He said to the Tommy, as he undid his tunic 
and displayed a Salvation Army jersey, "I am a 
Salvationist," and the British Tommy replying 
said, "So am I." They shook hands and the 
German fell back dead. Never shall I forget 
the sights that I have seen in the trenches we 
took from the Boches. I remember, one par- 
ticular trench, we took, we found a young girl 
about nineteen years of ago, who had one of 



The Retreat from Mons 77 

her eyes taken out, an ear cut off and her right 
breast severed. This was not an isolated case 
of the Boche's villainy. I personally witnessed, 
in a village in France and Belgium, the bodies 
of old men that have been crucified or slowly 
tortured to death. I have seen a little baby 
bayonetted to a doorpost and the bayonet left 
sticking in the body. 

It was down at Loos that I was gassed. I 
have a recollection of the gas coming over and 
was unconscious for twenty-four hours, and 
had oxygen pumped into me. When I re- 
turned to consciousness I found myself in a 
hospital with a Red Cross nurse bending over 
me. Another sector of the line, I was in, was 
at Cambrai. (After my recovery from the 
hospital). Here we caught it pretty rough. It 
was the time that British Divisions were being 
drafted ofif to Italy, that things were lively. 
Several battalions were being marched off to 
Italy, when Fritz broke through part of our 
line down south, and advanced in mass forma- 
tion. Then we were ordered to retreat. It was 
some retreat! Guns were left, ammunition 
dumps not blown up, and we retreated about 
thirty miles. Our losses there were great. Flow- 
ever, in small counter-attacks and skirmishes, 
which our battalion took part in, we captured 



78 Allied Overse>^ Stories 

quite a few prisoners. I was quite surprised to 
notice how young some of these German sol- 
diers seemed. Not more than seventeen years 
of age. In the early part of 191 8 I was up in 
Ypres again where one night we had after 
severe fighting, and recaptured a few hundred 
yards. I was just standing around in the cap- 
tured trenches, when a shell burst and a piece 
of shrapnel caught me. Down I went, to awake 
once more in a hospital, where the boys were all 
content and happy, in spite of wounds. So was 
I, especially when I heard I was for "Blighty" 
once again. 

Sergt. T. S. Grundy. 




I 



SERGT. AI.EXANDEB GIBB 



MY SERVICE IN FLANDERS 

By Sergt. Alexander Gibb, No. 444476, Co. A, 
26th Batt, N. B. Regt., Canadian Inf. 

In the month of October, 191 4, the second 
Canadian Division was being formed. I being 
too young at that time, could not enlist, but in 
the month of February, 19 15, I did enlist with 
the 55th Battalion. The commander of that Bat- 
talion was Lieut. Col. Kirkpatrick. It was in 
the month of March of the same year, that our 
regiment went into camp at Sussex, N. B. 
Every day of our life in camp was work, day 
and night, but of course our battalion found 
time for their sports; even if we did have to 
work very hard during the day. 

In the beginning of June of that year, there 
was a call came, to our regiment, for volunteers 
to go overseas, with the 26th Battalion, which 
is now known as the Famous Fighting 26th ; at 
that time under command of Lieut. Col. 
McAvity, better known as "Col. Jim." Of 
course I was eager to get over and do my bit. 
I was one of the many who volunteered. It was 

79 



8o Allied Overseas Stories 

in the most unlucky day of that month, June 
13th, 19 1 5, that the 26th sailed on the transport, 
Caledonian, for an unknown port in England, 
As the transport moved from the pier amid 
cheering crowds, the boys were happy and gay. 

Our voyage across the pond was uneventful, 
only we were all given life belts which we had 
to wear all the time of our trip, and of course 
we had our life boat drill, which took place in 
the morning after our physical training. The 
afternoon was spent in sports of all kinds, box- 
ing, running, etc., etc. We did not come in 
contact with any U-boats and I might say we 
had very little seasickness on board. Our trip 
of nine days was the most enjoyable trip I have 
ever had on the water. When we were a few 
miles from our landing place, away off in the 
distance, we could see two destroyers coming 
toward us. At first we thought they were 
"Fritzies" but as they came nearer we found 
them to be British destroyers coming to escort us 
into the harbor at Southampton. 

On arriving at that port, amid cheering 
crowds, we disembarked for our training camp 
in England. We marched to the station and 
boarded the train. At every step we made, the 
English people would give us hot tea, cake and 
fruit, and we sure did enjoy it. 



My Service in Flanders 8i 

We arrived in the City of Folkstone, and from 
there marched to the training camp, known as 
West Sandling camp. We were tired out from 
our long train journey, and had a quiet repose 
in our new home. Our training started in real 
earnest there. A lot of it was quite new to us, 
such as musketry, bayonet fighting, trench war- 
fare and bombing, etc. After two months of 
hard work, and long marches, the word came 
at last for us to show the Huns what we were 
made of. We received orders for parade in 
full marching order — then were marched about 
five miles to the transport, which was waiting for 
us at Folkstone. I might say that was in the 
month of September, 191 5. Our voyage across 
the channel was very rough, but of course we 
did not mind it. 

We arrived in the city of Boulogne, on the 
coast of France, and marched from there to a 
rest camp, staying there for three days. Once 
more we got orders to move on. We marched 
about forty or forty-five miles to St. Omer, then 
on to a rest camp behind the lines at Kemmel 
Hill, which is in Flanders. 

After a brief rest, our battalion went into the 
front line, at the above mentioned place. As we 
were nearing the front lines we could hear the 
big guns and shells bursting overhead ; also the 



82 Allied Overseas Storied 

whistling of bullets. Of course, I naturally 
started ducking my head, and I have been duck- 
ing ever since. In the week of the 12th of Oc- 
tober, our battalion was in the front line, in the 
P. E. O. trenches at Kemmel, and on that day 
"Fritzie" sprung a mine in No Man's Land 
which formed a big crater. On the morning of 
the 13th we got orders, that we were to take that 
crater. The time set for going over the top was 
2 A. M. and every man was ready and eager 
to show what he was made of. To the minute 
a blast of the whistle came, and we were over. 
"Fritzie" saw us and, he also, came over. Then 
a hand to hand fight started. I came in contact 
with a big Hun, and of course we went to it, 
before many seconds had passed, I got his 
bayonet over the bridge of the nose, but it did 
not knock me out, and a short time after I got 
him; my first Hun. My, but I was a proud boy, 
I put my hand to my face and it became cov- 
ered with blood — so I started back to the trench 
to get my wound dressed. On arriving at my 
battalion dressing station the doctor started 
operations. He put four stitches in my nose 
and then I was sent back to a field hospital for 
further treatment. While at the hospital I 
heard that our battalion had taken the crater 
and covered itself with glory, but our losses were 



My Service in Flanders 83 

heavy. It was during that fight that my regi- 
ment made itself famous. 

After two weeks in the hospital, I was sent 
back to my regiment which was in a rest camp. 
I carried back with me two lovely black eyes 
from the effect of the wound. 

Once more we moved into the trenches, under 
a heavy downpour of rain. The winter had just 
set in. It was cold and damp under foot, and 
the water reached up to our knees. During our 
stay in the line at that time, I recall an incident 
which happened. I was sitting in a dugout, 
having a bite to eat with some of my pals, and 
enjoying the meal quite well. Something had to 
spoil our lunch of course. A shell came over 
and burst on top of the dugout and buried us for 
about four or five hours. We were in darkness 
— then we were dug out, and were none the 
worse from our little experience. 

Sergt. a. Gibb. 



MY SERVICE IN FLANDERS 

By Sergt. a. Gibb. Part 2 — Story 2 

During our stay in the line at Kemmel Hill, 
after the crater fight, the winter started in real 
earnest. The snow and sleet was something 
awful. Nothing but wet feet all the time. Had 
it not been for our rum ration, we should have 
died from disease. A great number of our boys 
did die. Some of the boys in our working party 
who went up the line, while we were in billets, 
were drowned in the shell holes, that were filled 
with water, or got trench feet and were sent to 
the hospital. During the Christmas of 191 5 we 
were in the front line, and it was very cold. We 
had our Christmas dinner there, which consisted 
of our regular rations, but when we came to our 
billets again, after six days in the front line, we 
had a Christmas dinner which consisted of tur- 
key, dressing, pudding, tea and other nice things. 
I am sure all the boys enjoyed it to their heart's 
content. In fact it was the best meal we had 
since arriving in Flanders. We also had our 
New Year's dinner out on the line, much to our 

35 



86 Allied Overseas Stories 

joy. During Christmas and New Year's we had 
entertainments at the Y. M. C. A. huts and a 
few movie shows. 

About two days after New Year's we went 
back into the line ; also the mud and water. The 
rest of that winter was very uneventful. 

It was on June 2nd, 19 16, that the third battle 
of Ypres started, our regiment being in the line 
at Kemmel Hill, and our 3rd Canadian divi- 
sion at Y^res. On the second of that month 
Fritzie made his drive for Ypres. The battle 
started about 2 A. M. The Huns came over in 
massed formation, and very strong in number, 
almost six to one of "ours." All the boys in my 
battalion were sitting on top of the trench, look- 
ing on at the attack. The noise from the big 
guns was dreadful; also the machine gun fire. 
The prettiest sight 1 ever saw was the star shells 
bursting in the air. They were of colored red, 
white, and green, which was the Hun's S. O. S. 
call. 

On the fourth of June, "Fritzie" managed to 
drive our boys from their position in that part 
of the line. Our third division put up a very 
strong fight, but they were outnumbered and 
could not hold. So the Huns advanced quite 
a bit, and gained a lot of ground. The 48th 
battalion was separated from the other battalions 



My Service in Flanders 87 

and other regiments were in the same fix. That 
was the reason the Huns drove them back. 

On the nth of June our Battalion, the 26th, 
was taken out of the line at Kemmel Hill, and 
after a few hours rest, started for the support 
line at Ypres, which was Bedford Farm. On 
arriving there we stayed for two days, and on 
the 1 2th of the next month our famous Canadian 
Scottish made an attack on "Fritzie'' and suc- 
ceeded in driving them back, after very hard 
fighting and hand to hand work. 

It was on the 14th that our battalion, accom- 
panied by others, moved up to relieve the tired 
out Scotties, who were tattered and torn. They 
came straggling back, but not in the same 
strength as when they went into the conflict. 
They had a great number killed, wounded and 
missing. As our battalion moved up the road, 
leading to the trenches, under heavy shell fire, 
we lost two hundred men, killed and wounded. 
As we moved along, we could see our chums 
falling. That made us more eager to get at the 
Hun. On arriving in the front line, late that 
evening I was detailed off as a battalion runner, 
and, of course, it was very interesting work. I 
was to report at Battalion headquarters which 
was about three-quarters of a mile behind the 
line. After great difficulty I found myself at 



88 Allied Overseas Stories 

that point, and reported myself to the Sergt. 
major. A short time after I was ordered to take 
a battalion into the trenches at Hooge, and after 
great difBculty, going over the shell torn ground, 
I landed the regiment safe at their port. 

On the following morning at 9 A. M. I re- 
ceived another order to take a dispatch to every 
boy in my battalion. Of course there is always 
two men who go with the dispatch. The idea 
of that is in case one man gets wounded, the 
other can look after his wounds, and carry on 
with his orders. My partner and I started out 
from battalion headquarters, and going up the 
communication trench, found it all blown to 
pieces, so we decided to take to the open. On 
arriving at a company we delivered the dis- 
patch and went on to the next company. It was 
very uneventful but it took us from 9 A. M. 
one day until 4 A. M. the following morning to 
get back. On our way back we arrived at a 
company in time to get a little party out to 
headquarters, but at the same time, "Fritzie" 
started shelling us very heavily, so we took dif- 
ferent routes. About fifty yards from the front 
line my pal got a bullet in the back, which 
brought him down. I dressed his wound, then 
carried him for a distance of about fifty or sixty 
yards. I then laid him down, so I could get a 



My Service in Flanders 89 

rest and straighten myself up, but when I picked 
him up again he was dead. I continued the 
rest of my journey alone, but before long I got 
hit myself in both legs. I dressed them and 
crawled to headquarters, delivered the dispatch, 
then fell into a fainting spell. When I came to 
I found myself in a hospital in Montreal. 

Canada's casualties in the war up to eleven 
days before the capture of Mons on the final 
morning of the conflict totalled 211,358 men. 
These classified as follows: 

Killed in action 34j877 

Died of wounds 1 5)457 

Wounded and presumed dead 52,779 

Missing in action and known prisoners 

of war 8,245 

Canada's losses have been very great and she 
has fought very bravely for a just cause, the 
freedom of the world and everlasting peace. 

Serct. a. Gibb. 




GUNNER F. G. McAVITY 



WITH THE AMMUNITION TRAIN 

By Frederick Gerald McAvity, 

Gunner No. 91805, 8th Battery, 

Canadian Field Artillery 

It was back in 191 4, when the word came to 
Canada for soldiers, to serve for King and 
Country. As I was very young, not quite eigh- 
teen years of age, I thought I would like to 
enlist, and go to war, not really knowing what 
I was going into. 

At that time, anyone enlisting under age had 
to have his parent's consent which, I will say, 
was no easy matter. After having a little battle 
of my own, with all my relatives, I finally man- 
aged to get the signature of my parents. 

We went to camp a few days later and had 
about two months' training at Valcartier, and 
then sailed for England. After training a few 
months in the old country we sailed for France, 
the early part of February, 191 5, where we first 
got our taste of war. I was more than surprised, 
because as I was young, and my idea of war was 
sniping at each other from behind a tree or 

91 



92 Allied Overseas Stories 

stump, but this trench warfare was a new thing. 
At that time I was attached to ammunition col- 
umn which fed the guns with its ammunition. 
Then it was a case of starving the guns, because 
the shortage of ammunition would only allow 
each gun of each battalion four rounds a day 
and as the soldiers call it out there, they had our 
"wind up" all the time. 

We had lost quite a number of men at Ypres 
and pulled out of that position for another part 
of the line, when I was wounded on the forenoon 
of September zi. It was only a slight wound 
in the left foot. After a few months at the hos- 
pital and proving A-i again, I was sent back to 
the line, and joined my unit at Ploegstreet in 
the fall of the same year. Now as you know the 
fighting was not so great, but the hardships were 
terrible through the winter. It is simply won- 
derful what a human being can stand. If any- 
one had told me before I enlisted that I could 
lay in mud and water for day in and day out, 
I think I would have called him a "liar," but 
I have come to the conclusion that nothing is 
impossible now-a-days. 

Some days when it was a little quiet, we would 
spend our time in fixing up our Bivouac, which 
we had built on the ground, as huts to live in. 
After the winter of 1915 and the spring of 1916, 



With the Ammunition Train 93 

we moved to the Ypres Salient and we had a 
pretty tough time of it there, as they had us 
pinned in the shape of a horse shoe, and they 
could hit us from all sides except the rear. The 
Germans had us overwhelmed at that time, but 
even with their wonderful fighting mechanism, 
they couldn't drive back the fighting race from 
North America. 

We fought on in the Salient until July, 19 16, 
when the first division got word we were to 
move to another front. It was rather a surprise. 
We thought we were to have a rest at that time. 
The fighting was heavy on the two fronts. The 
Somme Front in France and the Salonica Front 
in Greece. So it was a question with the boys 
which one we were going to. At last word came 
to move somewhere and after a number of days 
on the train and on foot, we at last came to a 
sign along the roadway marked Somme River. 

Well, then we knew we were on our way to 
the Somme Front, going into action the same 
night. We arrived on the battle scenes, and that 
was the introduction of the Canadians in the 
Battle of the Somme. It was a tough fight and 
we lost a number of men, but it was much worse 
for poor "Fritzie." 

We had it pretty rough all the time on the 
Somme, and often times when the rations did, 



94 Allied Overseas Stories 

not get up from the divisional train, we had to 
lay back on the hard-tack, which looks like dog 
biscuits, and we thought one of these biscuits, 
dipped in bacon grease was a great treat at that 
time. 

I fought on the Somme through the summer 
of 19 1 6, until the fall of the same year, and in 
the early part of the evening of November 9, as 
I was in horse lines of our battery, having a nice 
friendly game of "crown and anchor." The cor- 
poral of my section, called me from my game, 
(I was winning and did not like to leave the 
game) and said: 

"McAvity you will go up with rations to the 
battalion tonight. I think you had better leave 
about eight oVlock." Well, I went back to the 
game and played until eight, and then I started 
for the line. As we placed the rations over 
our pack horses and started to plough through 
the mud, leading our horses, it was a case of 
ups and downs, stepping in a shell hole here, 
and on a dead body there. Fritz was putting 
a lot of gas shells over, and it was getting late 
in the night and raining like Hell. 

We had one of our boys up in the air by the 
concussion of a shell and he also lost his ration. 
At last we got to the battery. The gas shells 
still poured over and the major gave us orders 



With the Ammunition Train 95 

to get back as quickly as possible, after deliver- 
ing the goods. I think we were about fifty 
yards away from the battery when a big shell 
burst, or at least a "Jack Johnson" as the boys 
call it. The boy behind me, the one who lost 
his ration, said to me : 

"Mac we had better hurry as it was pretty 
close," and let me tell you the next one that came 
over "got" both of us, killing him and wound- 
ing me severely. At 11.20 P. M. on the eve of 
November 9th, after spending nearly two years 
in hospital, I was discharged, May, 191 8, in St. 
John, N. B., Canada. 

Frederick Gerald McAvity. 




TREATING GUNNER McAVITY'S WOUND, PARKS 
CONVAIiESCENT HOSPITAL. ST. JOHN, N. B. 



HOSPITAL EXPERIENCE 
By Gunner Frederick Gerald McAvity 

Being wounded on November 9, my first stop 
was at a stationary hospital, Rowen, France. I 
had one operation there, and had some shrapnel 
removed from my body. One of the pieces was 
taken from my left shoulder. A nice-sized piece, 
which will be shown in the photograph illus- 
trating this story. When I came to, after being 
under the operation, I felt something hard on 
my shoulder. The nurse, seeing that I did not 
pay much attention to it, came to my bed and 
asked me if I did not want my souvenir, mean- 
ing my shrapnel. Well, as I was in great pain 
at that time, I did not prize it very much, but I 
value it quite a lot today. 

After a few months in France, they moved 
me to a Red Cross hospital at Southampton, 
England, called Netley hospital. I had a long 
stretch of hospital life in Netley. When I was 
sailing from France to England, aboard the 
hospital ship, they asked me where I would like 
to go. Naturally, being a Canadian, and haying 

97 



98 Allied Overseas Stories 

no relatives over there, I promptly said, Lon- 
don, so I could meet some of my pals. When I 
got off the boat, and aboard the hospital train, 
I asked the orderly if I was near London, and 
he gave the answer: ^^Don't worry. You arc 
not going to London. You are on your way to 
Netley, and will be there in ten minutes." 

I was a little downhearted at first, but after 
a few weeks, I was satisfied with my treatment, 
which was the very best. 

When I got my little lot of wounds, on the 
Somme, I also was exposed to gas shells, which 
left my stomach in such a condition that I could 
not eat for two months until after I had that sea 
voyage from France to Netley. The nurse there 
asked me if I would try a poached egg on toast, 
and that was my turning point. From that day, 
until the day I was discharged, I have not missed 
a meal, except after an operation. 

I had nine operations altogether, eight in the 
Netley Hospital at Southampton, England. 
After the shrapnel was removed, the doctor 
found out that the bone in my shoulder was 
severely fractured, and I had four different 
operations, just to clean out the loose bone which 
was keeping my wound from healing. All the 
time I was in the hospital and even until three 
months ago my arm was completely paralized. 




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GUNNER McAVlTY'S FIELD MEDICAL CARD 



Hospital Experience 99 

But, through the wonderful treatment they gave 
me, I am glad to say I have pretty good use of 
my left arm. 

Another one of my large wounds was in my 
left thigh, where I lost about eight inches of 
flesh, from the knee up. I have had four opera- 
tions on this limb. I lay for eight months in 
suspense, awaiting the official word, whether I 
would have to lose the left limb. I can honestly 
say I had a great deal of confidence in my sur- 
geon, and one day he came to me and had a per- 
sonal chat with me. He talked to me just like 
a father. He asked me if I thought I could stand 
another operation because he stated that I was in 
a pretty bad condition. I was very anxious to 
know his view on the subject as I put all con- 
fidence in him. I promptly asked him his deci- 
sion, and he xeplied that he thought I could 
stand it. Knowing he thought I could pull 
through, it did not take me long to let him do 
anything to get me healed up. 

The operation was performed and I had all 
the skin taken from my right thigh, and grafted 
on the wound on the left. I can say it was a 
success, and after a few months I was able to 
get along on a cane. The doctor, seeing I was 
able to move about, had me sent to a Canadian 



loo Allied Overseas Stories 

Hospital so I could be boarded and sent t& 
Canada. 

I was in the Canadian hospital for about a 
month and was very anxious to see my native 
land again, when one day at noon the word came 
for me to pack up and get ready for the boat. 

After nine days at sea on a hospital ship, with 
all lights aglow, at the time the Germans were 
sinking Red Cross ships, we pulled into Hali- 
fax, N. S., safe and sound. Here I was detailed 
off for a hospital, after I had my furlough, to 
visit my relatives. 

After I had seen my people, and was ex- 
hausted from talking, and shaking hands, with 
old acquaintances, I reported to hospital again 
in St. John, N. B., Canada, where I received 
electrical and massage treatment. 

At that time I could not bend my knee and 
my leg was stiff, but through the wonderful 
treatment, and my own will power, I finally got 
very good use of it before I got my discharge, 
May, 191 8. 

F, G. McAviTY. 




SEKGT. FKEDEKICK MUIR 



TWO YEARS AND A HALF OF WAR 

By Sgt. F. R. Muir, No. 81611, loth Batt, 
C.E.F. 

Six months before war had been declared 1 
left New York City for Winnipeg, Canada, to 
play at the Winnipeg Theatre and remained 
there until war was an established fact. On 
August 6th, 1914, I enlisted as an American and 
joined the 32nd Battalion, C.E.F. After about 
five months' training, my battalion was ready 
and eager for service. From Halifax, Nova 
Scotia, we set out on the former German liner 
"Vaderland" bound for the battle grounds of 
Civilization, each and every boy of us keyed up 
to the highest pitch of patriotism. When we 
were three days at sea we ran out of cigarettes. A 
number of the boys had boxes of strong cigars 
with them and these they passed around quite 
generously. We smoked with the usual gusto 
and also the usual results. A ton of fish must 
have been fattened on food that was intended 
solely to strengthen us for the combat. 

This experience, coupled with seasickness, 
101 



I02 Allied Overseas Stories 

made four of us refuse to wake up one morning, 
for which we were brought up before the Major 
and sentenced to cleaning port-hole windows. 
We did not relish this labor and one port hole 
each was the extent of our efforts for half the 
day. In the afternoon we were set to peeling 
potatoes, cleaning the dishes and scrubbing the 
lower decks, which we finally accomplished 
after much pouting and grumbling. 

As we neared the coast of Ireland the ships 
which comprised our convoy seemed to be mak- 
ing a bee line for any port they could reach. 
Word had been received that subs were in the 
vicinity and full steam ahead was the order of 
the day. The fact that our ship was the slowest 
tub of the bunch, making only about nine knots 
per hour, added darned little to our comfort. 
Finally after much excitement we docked at 
Queenstown. Major Ashton, in command of 
our battalion, had the gang planks lowered and 
invited us out to a route march through the city. 
We aroused quite some enthusiasm, and curi- 
osity, as we were the first Canadian troops to 
ever land in Ireland. Our next stop was Liver- 
pool and there the dinkey trains, which to us 
were a real joke in comparison to our own huge 
monsters at home, afforded us opportunity for 
funny comment. These trains are little bits of 



Two Years and a Half of War 103 

things and from fifteen to twenty men were 
crammed into a small compartment normally 
holding about ten. Several of us were unable 
to sit down all the way to London. The best 
feature of the train service was the fond good- 
byes, given us by the young ladies who usually 
gave them with a kiss, something that not many 
of us found fault with. 

On our journey through London wc were 
royally received by English Red Cross ladies 
who fed us with welcome lunches that sure did 
fill the vaccuum beneath the belt. From Folk- 
stone, fully equipped, we left for France, Wc 
knew we were going over to re-inforce the gal- 
lant loth Battalion, and this knowledge added 
to our good spirits. We were relieving real 
heroes and we knew it was up to us to ^^Carry 
on" as nobly as had our predecessors. Every 
mother's son of us was eager, yes anxious, to start 
in on real action. Canada expected much from 
us, and we would not disappoint her. Arriving 
at Boulogne we were a bit peeved as we antici- 
pated being received by enemy shell fire, but 
silence was the only reception w6 got. 

Red Cross ambulances were arriving in count- 
less numbers, bringing in the wounded, and this 
was our first glimpse of battle's havoc. This 
sort of took the heart out of us, but only for a 



I04 Allied Overseas Stories 

few moments, for, with that scene, came a grit- 
ting of the teeth, and on each face could be seen 
a new-born determination to see this thing 
through to a successful conclusion. 

After a night spent, tentless, in the pouring 
rain, covered only with straw and the mean, wet 
sky, we entrained for an unknown destination, and 
landed at Poppraine, which surely looked like 
an unknown destination, as it was a typical jerk- 
water village inhabited only by a few old men 
and women. Through this village we hiked and 
up a road leading to the front line trenches. 
This road had been shot full of shell-holes, 
which made walking very uncomfortable. The 
further on we walked, the nearer came Fritzie's 
forty-two centimeter shells, fired from the 
largest cannon ever known up to that time; the 
"Jack Johnsons" as they were called. We were 
kept busy dodging the shells that seemed to 
burst all around us, yet never hit us, but in our 
hearts, and souls, we realized that at last we 
were on speaking terms with Mr. Death him- 
self; and this sobered us up some, you bet 
'Twas no unusual thing to feel your hair stand 
right up straight on end and hear your knees 
beat a tattoo as they knocked against each other. 
However we soon overcame this feeling as the 
purpose of our mission dawned upon us. I had 



Two Years and a Half of War 105 

a good opportunity to observe how young fel- 
lows act when each knows that death may be 
his portion at any moment. 

In a section composed of eight men I noticed 
that one was laughing as lightly as though he 
was safe and secure at home. Another was sing- 
ing a crazy song and kept marching along defy- 
ing death, or any other horror, that might 
overtake him. Still another took the matter so 
seriously as to walk along in a sort of semi- 
conscious daze, with a look of stupidity on his 
face, oblivious to all surroundings. There is 
the case of Private Fred Wheelhouse, a Ca- 
nadian lad of about twenty-two years, who while 
walking under fire of the German guns kept on 
playing his mouth organ or harmonica until 
struck on the head by a piece of shrapnel which 
killed him instantly and spattered his brains 
upon his nearby comrades. 

This was our first casualty and right then and 
there we solemnly swore that we would avenge 
him. On April 21st, 1915, while awaiting 
orders, in our reserve, trenches, two miles from 
the front line which was being held by the Ca- 
nadian troops from the ist, 2nd, 5th, and 8th 
battalions, the Germans let loose a heavy gas 
attack upon them. At that time the gas mask 
was hardly known, the men being equipped with 



io6 Allied Overseas Stories 

small inefficient respirators, arid naturally the 
casualties were ver)^ heavy. As a result the men 
had to fall back losing a lot of the lighter guns. 
This made necessary the use of the men in the 
reserve trenches, and an order was immediately 
issued that we "stand to" ready to take our places 
in a counter-attack which was to be launched in 
the morning. 

Imagine, if you can, the feelings of the lads 
awaiting the rising of the sun which, probably, 
meant the last sunrise many of them would be- 
hold. The tortures of the death house, I am 
sure, are mild when compared to those endured 
by the boys, in the tense hours prior to the 
attack. Especially when one has to listen to 
the moaning of the wounded who are being car- 
ried back of the lines. It is far from encourag- 
ing, and it did not surprise me when, after going 
through a night like this, that each and every 
one of us became fatalists. At five-thirty in the 
morning, the time set for the attack, we received 
word to go, and believe me we were glad of it. 
I felt as though I was ready for death to end 
my anxiety, or else to fight it out, right on the 
spot, to a finish. Our officer, Lieut. Ball, was 
the first to jump to the front. After a lusty 
"Come on boys" he shot forward into the tur- 
moil, caused by our heavy artillery, with a reck- 



Two Years and a Half of War 107 

lessness bordering on insanity. His action was 
an inspiring one and we boys were ready to 
follow^ him to Hell, if needs be. 

In that charge I enjoyed the experience of 
getting my first German. I crashed into him, 
a big burly six footer, and now that my wish 
to meet one had been gratified, and I stood 
before him; 1 did not know whether to shoot 
him, punch him, kick him or stick him as you 
would a pig. Not having much experience with 
the bayonet, I acted on impulse and rammed it 
right through his stomach. Oh boy! What a 
squeal he let out. Putting my foot on his breast 
I pulled the bayonet from out his vitals taking 
along with it his bowels. This nerved me, and 
I rushed forward like a raving maniac stopping 
for nothing. I plowed my way through them 
using first my butt and then the bayonet until 
I had rushed right into their second line, and. 
Holy Jerusalem!! right smack into a whole nest 
of them. We were proceeding rather method- 
ically, in cleaning them out, when a shell from 
a Jack Johnson burst in the midst of our gallant 
little company, killing five outright and sepa- 
rating two from their legs and arms, I myself 
losing a leg and having my shoulder put out of 
commission. I was conscious all the time of 
what had happened, and managed to crawl into 



io8 Allied Overseas Stories 

a shell-hole, and slap a bandage about my leg. 
With my shoulder I could do nothing and after 
lying exposed for two hours the company 
stretcher bearers picked me up, and carried me 
back to the dressing station. From there I was 
sent to No. 13 general hospital, Boulogne, but 
by the time I arrived, gangrene had set in, and 
the doctors there could do nothing for me. 
Again I was transferred, this time to London, 
and from there to Cambridge. A Doctor Cook, 
holding the rank of Major, and from New York, 
announced he would cure me in two months. 
But the job was a more difficult one than he an- 
ticipated and six months was required ere I 
could walk again. During that time the leg had 
to be amputated to the knee. I was then dis- 
charged and received, from the Canadian gov- 
ernment, an artificial limb which I later dis- 
carded for a better one made in little old New 
York. 




PRIVATE GEORGE OXTON 



FROM ENGLAND TO FRANCE AND 
BACK 

By PvT. George Oxton, No. 81680, loth Batt., 
C.E.F. 

It was the latter end of the month of April, 
191 5, that the 32nd Canadian Battalion received 
orders to embark from the port of Folkstone, 
on the south coast of England^ for the western 
front. 

By reason of the fact, that the Canadians had 
suffered great losses at the first battle of Ypres, 
our order to leave England came at an hour's 
notice, but the regiment to a man was extremely 
anxious to get over, and get busy. 

While we v/ere on board, our time was occu- 
pied by assembling our new issue of Webb 
Equipment, which we had practically thrown 
at us, prior to leaving our huts at Risborough 
Barracks, Shorncliffe. Consequently some of us 
found we were short a portion of the accoutre- 
ment while others had parts to spare. Being 
sociable, we were all able to make a complete 
rigout. 

10 



no Allied Overseas Stories 

The night was of the pitch black sort, but, 
thanks to the science of navigation, and sea and 
air escort, we docked at Boulogne, France, safe 
and sound, but in a drizzly rain. 

As long as I live, I'll never forget the peculiar 
odor, that filled the air, while marching up the 
long, steep, winding road that led from the docks 
to the camp. It seemed miles, and more miles, 
long, but thank goodness, we arrived at last, to 
spend our first night on damp ground, or I had 
better say cold mud. It's very true we had can- 
vass over us, but, I'm sure the tents had just 
been thrown up, for it was quite as dry outside 
as inside. 

I had no sooner put my head on my knapsack, 
when that poor miserable little bugler, bellowed 
out his early morning song. 

On April the 27th, we entrained for parts un- 
known, at least we poor privates didn't know, 
where we were bound for; probably our com- 
pany commander knew, and, if he was in the 
humor, the sergeant major might have known 
also. 

After traveling all night and part of the next 
day, packed in cattle cars like the proverbial 
sardines, we arrived at Poperinge. The name 
was the largest portion of the town that the Ger- 
man gunners saw fit to leave. Detraining here, 



England to France and Back hi 

we made a rapid march, to within a mile of 
Ypres. Here we joined our respective regi- 
ments. I went to tht tentii battalion. It had 
then earned the name of the ^'Fighting tenth." 

This night we dug ourselves in, along two 
sides of a large field. Each man dug a shallow 
hole large enough to lie down comfortably in. 
Owing to my height I had to dig one at least 
six feet in length. I was wishing, at that par- 
ticular time, that I happened to be that poor 
miserable little bugler, as he was a little more 
than five feet tail. 

The next morning, I, for one, was up before 
revielle. 1 found it much more comfortable 
walking round, in the cool of the morning than 
lying in a mud hole with only a great coat, 
within a mile of me. I imagine something al- 
ways happened to those lovely army blankets, 
for they were generally conspicuous by their 
absence. 

The evening of the 28th was reasonably fine, 
when we answered roll call, prior to going up 
the line. Here we found ourselves in the last 
line of reserves, the idea being to get used to 
the "heavies." At times the shells became far 
too familiar with us, consequently I lost some 
of my best pals. We spent a week like this on 
the Yser Canal bank, living like the old cave 



112 Allied Overseas Stories 

dwellers, only we were not there long enough, 
and it wasn't peaceful enough, to construct any 
labyrinths. Our work consisted of making 
shelters, after a "Jack Johnsons" had obliter- 
ated them. 

On the move again, this time to billets about 
seven miles south of Baieulle, it took a full night 
to march the distance, with full kit. The roads 
didn't appear to get any softer, as time went by, 
but still one heard the everlasting (Kipling's) 
boots, boots, boots'. As we had ten minutes each 
hour to rest, I was absolutely unconscious for 
nine and a half minutes of that time. 

On the nineteenth of May, we were on foot 
again. I had a feeling it would not be to the 
last line of reserves this time. Neither it was, 
for, by the next night, we were heading for the 
front line trenches, one mile east of the village 
of Festubert. At dusk we traversed communica- 
tion trenches to our destination: the front line 
on the edge of No Man's Land. At last! After 
training and waiting for over seven months. We 
relieved the Berkshires and took up our posts 
along with the "Little Black Devils," as the 
eighth battalion is called, in a trench, which was 
only captured from the Germans the previous 
day. The portion of the trench we held, was 
dug in a roadway, and being fairly high ground 



England to France and Back 113 

was comparatively dry. This speaks wonders 
for a trench, for we plodded through much mud 
and water to reach it. Every second man was 
detailed to mount guard, while the remainder 
fought for forty winks, then relieved guard. 
The first two nights were uneventful, though a 
heavy artillery duel was the standing program. 

The third night, the twenty-first, we were not 
going to give "Fritzie" a chance to come across, 
but we were going to push him back. If a man 
tells you he was not nervous, going "over the 
top" for the first time, he lies. I felt nervous^- 
though I never confessed it, and I wager every- 
one else felt the same way, as we had to wait 
about two hours, after being told we were going 
over. At eight o'clock we were sent up a small 
communication trench about half way across 
No Man's Land, on the side towards the enemy. 
It cut across diagonally. There was a good- 
sized gap, on which some snipers had their rifles 
trained. At this point, we lost a few of our 
company. It was a case of running the gauntlet 
for each man who passed it. All of us had to 
pass it three different times: for, in our first 
advance, the order was cancelled, so we had to 
return, till later on. 

About nine o'clock, at dusk, we finally went 
ahead to the end of the communication trench. 



114 Allied Overseas Stories 

Here we branched out on either side, and spread 
out in open order, to charge. By this time my 
nervousness had disappeared. My mind was set 
on the one object of getting someone— and I 
gripped my gun, and prayed for ail the strength 
I could muster. With a wild cry of "Lusitania," 
we received the orders to go. All I could do 
was yell to the boys to give them ^^beans," for I 
was knocked down, and found my right leg was 
half blown ofiP, just below the thigh. If the boys 
hadn't taken their objective that night, I should 
have been a prisoner, instead of a hospital case^ 
for over twenty months, in England. 

Vm just a plain buck private, 
Who fought with Canada's Sons, 

In a regiment of the Maple Leaf, 
That made it hot for the Huns. 

Pm just a plain buck private, 
And fought on the side of right, 

To serve the world for democracy, 
And beat the Hunnish might. 

Fm just a plain buck private, 
From the land of ice and snow 

And gave all I could, for my country, 
To help to vanquish the Foe. 



England to France and Back 115 

It was probably an hour or two after the ad- 
vance that some of the men came to see what 
they could do for us. In my particular case the 
shrapnel, which had penetrated and completely 
shattered the right femur, had also numbed the 
nerves, therefore I was left conscious. 

However, one of our battalion sergeants tied 
up the top of the leg for me with a length of 
cord, which I was always in the habit of carry* 
ing. 

Four of the machine gunners, who had just 
returned from the new trench, made an attempt 
to carry me into the old communication trench, 
but their good intentions were completely frus- 
trated by the company captain, a real cantanker- 
ous sort, who levelled his revolver at me, and 
declared he would shoot, if the boys took me in. 
Though I felt sore, in more ways than one, I 
came to the conclusion, that he was perfectly 
right, as it might have blocked the trench to 
the reserves coming up. 

The only thing to do was to put me on the 
ground again. Here I was expecting another 
shell every minute, but Providence evidently 
thought I had received my share, as I was free 
from any more shells, though they were burst- 
ing close at hand continually. 

About 2 A. M. our battalion stretcher-bearers 



ii6 Allied Overseas Stories 

managed to reach the position where many more, 
with myself, were lying. The shelling had then 
subsided to a great extent, making it possible to 
continue the work of carrying out the wounded. 

I knew one of the three men, who came along- 
side of me, with a perfectly good-looking 
stretcher. Though the way was long and very 
rocky, we finally arrived at the first aid dress- 
ing station. After resting here for probably an 
hour, I was conveyed in one of the "London 
Scottish" ambulances, about five miles, to a field 
hospital. I saw many of the boys here. Most 
of them appeared to be walking cases. The 
next think I knew, I was placed on the operating 
table, where I smelled ether for the first time. 
I remember the doctor saying: "Be perfectly 
still now, and breathe naturally." After that 
I knew no more till the job of inserting numer- 
ous rubber tubbes through the leg was finished. 
Having to spend two nights on ambulances and 
trains, I arrived at a British base hospital in 
Boulogne. I remember the people cheering as 
our train pulled in, but I wasn't in the mood for 
caring what they did. 

The treatment was of the best in this hospital, 
though I only remained in it fourteen days. In 
the bed next to mine, there was a Scotchman who 
kept yelling continually. His leg had been am- 



England to France and Back 117 

putated so I couldn't see what he had to kick 
about. Nevertheless it made it quite impossible 
to get any rest at all. 

On the morning of June 3rd, the doctor 
marked me ^^out," which meant that I was going 
to ^'Blighty." I hardly realized what it meant 
then. 

Again I was on the table — this time to cut an 
abcess and to put a cumbersome iron splint on 
me. I think they called it a Hodgson's splint. 
One of those affairs that extended down two 
sides of the body, to the feet. It took up a lot 
of room — so much so that I had to have a Ford 
ambulance all to myself; consequently at the 
boat's side I was taken for an officer and treated 
as one. This I didn't object to in the least. 

The Abert set sail soon after, and about two 
hours afterwards, we were in Dover, where we 
entrained, in a regular hospital train. I was 
marked for Norwich, in the County of Nor- 
folk, a short distance from the east coast. The 
night of June 5th our train pulled into Norwich 
station, where the Red Cross ambulance con- 
veyed us to our hospital. I found myself in a 
military ward of the General hospital of Nor- 
wich, but only for a few minutes. They dis- 
covered that the beds were too small for both 
myself and the splint, so I was shifted to another 



ii8 Allied Overseas Stories 

ward, where I was put to bed, and became very 
much attached to this same bed for ten long 
months, undergoing nine more operations in 
the hope of saving the limb. They eventually 
took it off, but I always have the consolation of 
knowing that I am far better off than a good 
many others. 

Private George Oxton. 

Editor's note:— The verses embodied in this 
story are in no way changed, but are printed 
exactly as Mr. Oxton delivered them to me. 

H. L. F. 




PRIVATE JOHN T. MILLER 



^WHY I HATE A GERMAN" 

By PvT, John T. Miller, No. 122957, 96th 
Co,, 6th Regt, U. S. Marines 

On the afternoon of July 24, 19 17, as I was 
walking along the streets of Detroit, Michigan, 
my attention was attracted by the beat of drums 
and the tramp of marching men. It then dawned 
on me that I was big enough to do my bit, so 
I went to the Marine recruiting office, enlisted, 
and was sent to Paris Island, S. C, where I was 
trained for four months. On January 19th. 
19 1 8, I left New York and after thirteen days, 
arrived at a port in France. It was there I got 
my first glimpse of war. We were loaded in 
box cars about half the size of American cars. 
It was built for eight horses, but forty marines 
had to spend sixty hours in it. We were then in 
the zone of advance, but stayed only about three 
weeks. We went into the line the first night. 
It was an experience I shall never forget. 
Cigarettes were barred and no loud talking per- 
mitted. I thought it very funny, but soon learned 
different The third night in, "Heinie" paid us 

119 ^ 



I20 Allied Overseas Stories 

a visit. There were thirty-seven of us, holding 
about 500 yards of front line. This at one time 
was a quiet sector but it woke up, on this night. 
We had no reserves, and retreat was impossible, 
so all we had to do was to stay and entertain our 
visitors. There were about 250, and none of 
them looked starved to death. After the barrage 
lifted we saw some of the boys that we had 
traveled over three thousand miles to see. I was 
in a daze when I saw my first "Heinie," and he 
looked about as big as the Woolworth Building. 
But I woke up in time to realize that I had a 
rifle and hadn't forgotten how to use it. "Heinie" 
stopped in our wire and stayed there. Our 
visitors were all given a royal reception. Six of 
our boys went to the hospital but we left over 
a hundred of the Kaiser's boys in front of, and 
in, the trench, and had the trouble of burying 
them. From that night on we took more precau- 
tion and I was one that was made the goat. My 
"bunkie" and I took up our post in "No Man's 
Land" at sunset each night and stayed until mid- 
night. We were put there for the purpose of 
announcing "Heinie" if he should call again. 

"Heinie" did not worry me so much but the 
rats which we called "war babies," insisted on 
sleeping in my arms. And as we were in a 
position where the slightest noise would send 



Why I Hate a German 121 

us to the hospital or perhaps ^'west," the "war 
babies" had everything their own way. And the 
cooties would keep us company every night. 
They would parade up and down my back and 
of course I had to stand for it. I laid out there 
three nights with my pal. On the fourth day 
about B.ve o'clock we decided to wash, as it 
would be the first time in five days. We got 
down to the spring without being seen and were 
enjoying a wonderful bath when the "Heinies" 
spotted us and started to snipe with his six inch 
shells. Bill and I made for the dugout and had 
about two hundred feet to go when a shell hit 
under Bill's feet. I did not stop for it was use- 
less, as all T could see was blood and a part of 
a shattered leg. We picked Bill up in a box. 
It sure hit me hard, but it is all in the game. 
I swore that night I would get even, and I think 
I have. After three months in the front line, 
in and around Verdun, we went out for a rest, 
but not for long. We had been in a rest camp 
about ten days, when on the night of May 28, 
at nine o'clock, we were ordered to move up the 
line, and stop "Heinie," who wanted to make 
Paris his headquarters. We were loaded in 
motor lorries and rode all night, and part of the 
day. 

We arrived at a little town and got something 



122 Allied Overseas Stories 

to eat, the first we had in twenty- four hours. We 
then started on a march which lasted thirty-six 
hours, when we arrived at a town about five 
miles behind the line, tired and hungry. I will 
go on record, right here, to say that I have been 
over every inch of France, in box cars, hospital 
trains, motor lorries, and the rest I hiked. We 
arrived at this town about two A. M. and were 
ordered into the line, but thanks to our com- 
manding officer we did not go. The inhabitants 
had evacuated and we were told to go and sleep 
in any house we could find. It was here that I 
saw the first example of German ^^Kultur." In 
a room in the house I went into, I saw a mother 
with part of her head blown off, with a six 
month old baby in her arms, both lying on the 
bed, dead. In the corner was a six year old boy 
who had evidently been killed by the same shell 
that killed the mother and baby. But with all 
that I had a good night's sleep, which I needed. 
In the morning we killed what live stock we 
could find, and sure did eat. That night we 
were ordered into the line and there we began 
to see real war. 

"Heinie" started to send over exerything he 
had, in the way of shells, high explosives, shrap- 
nel and machine gun bullets. There were no 
trenches and the only protection we had were 



Why I Hate a German 123 

the holes which we dag to lie in. Things were 
flying and I did not take time to get my shovel, 
which I had in my pack, but used my mess gear 
instead. We laid in those holes for three days and 
dared not stick our heads up. If we did it meant 
^^taps," and that we would not have to answer 
*^revielle" in the morning. What we had to eat 
we had at night, and it was very little, a French 
ration, consisting of "monkey meat" and French 
bread; but anything tasted good. One night a 
lad from Texas, who was not satisfied with his 
"Boudoir" in the ground, decided to change 
hotels. About that time "Heinie" saved him the 
trouble by sending an eight-inch H. E. which 
made a hole big enough to put a regiment in. 
So Tex decided to take up quarters in it. He 
had just arrived in his new home (or hole) when 
"Heinie" duplicated the order, which hit on 
the edge of the first hole. "Tex" came sailing 
over my head. I first thought he had joined the 
aviation, and was going to Heaven, but when 
I looked around there was Tex sitting on the 
ground trying to find out if he was all together, 
and cursing Heinie for being so attentive. Look- 
ing at me he said : 

"Can you imagine those Dutchmen, sniping 
at me with an eight-inch gun." 

On the afternoon of June 6th, we received 



124 Allied Overseas Stories 

orders to pack up and we all had the idea that 
we were to get a rest. All were counting on the 
sleep and bath we would have. But no such 
luck. It was here when the French had retreated 
so far that the artillery was no good to us, and 
the general in charge of the division said the 
words that will remain in history forever, ''Re- 
treat, Hell, we are going ahead." And we were 
ordered to go over the top at 5.15. The order 
came at five o'clock. I cannot describe the feel- 
ing one has while waiting for the word. It 
seemed to me that the time would never come. 
But suddenly the silence was broken by the blast 
of a whistle and we were on our way. The sun 
was shining and the country looked wonderful, 
and across the wheat we started, to reach our 
objective, which was the town of Bourches. We 
had gone no more than about one hundred feet 
when our captain, the first man to go down, was 
hit six times in the body. I began to realize 
then what we were up against, for "Heinie" 
must have had a million machine guns and they 
were all working. 

The boys started to fall and all that was heard 
was, "I'm hit," or "Heinie got me." A lad be- 
side me "got it" in the ankle, and said to me: 
"Kid, what do you think of that dirty bunch of 
Dutchmen. They won't even let me get started. 



Why I Hate a German 125 

When you get into the town, kill ten for me." 
I promised him I would, and left him. I 
don't know whether I fulfilled my promise, but 
I told him I did when I saw him later in the 
hospital. When I arrived at the town, which 
was our objective, there were forty-seven left of 
256 in our original company. The Germans 
were in one end of the town and we were in the 
other, and, as the reader will understand, one 
town could not hold both parties, so we started 
to move ^^Heinie." Some of us were detailed to 
put Heinie out and it was no easy job, for every 
"Heinie" had a machine gun. But it was the 
same old story, they would fire their guns until 
we were on top of them, then throw up their 
hands, shout "Kamerad" and beg for mercy. 
But after you go through as far as that, you 
cease to be human and don't know what mercy 
is. We reached our objective at 5.30 P. M. and 
at nine o'clock by direction of one lieutenant, the 
only officer left in the company, and a pal to all 
the boys, we had Heinie on the outside, the town 
fortified, and nine hundred men put into the 
position. Again, and up until the time I was 
hit, it was little or no sleep; for ^'Heinie" in- 
sisted upon coming back into the town. 

On the afternoon of June 10, T was going 
after some water, and some "Heinie" with a 



126 Allied Overseas Stories 

machine gun, gave me my fare to the hospital, 
in the form of a bullet in the knee. Some of the 
boys carried me into a dugout, where I had to 
wait until dark, and then was carried to the rear, 
put in a Ford ambulance and started to Paris. 
Twenty-seven miles in a Ford, on a stretcher, 
is no joy ride, but it was good enough. Then I 
reached the hospital in Paris. I had not had 
my clothes off for fifty-seven days. When I got 
a bath and saw a bed, with white linen and 
blankets, and something real to eat, I thought I 
was in paradise. After the operation, all I could 
do was to sing, "Please go away and let mc 
sleep." After three months in the hospitals of 
France, I was put on a transport and started for 
New York. I am now in the hospital, awaiting 
discharge, and think it all a dream, and am in 
fear that some one will pinch me, and I will 
wake up. 

PvT. J. T. Miller. 




PRIVATE ARTHUR J. LEWIS 



FROM NEW YORK TO FRANCE AND 
BACK 

By PvT. Arthur J. Lewis, No. 407936, 8th 

Irish Batt,, King's Liverpool Regt., 

British Army 

When I was going to work on November 22, 
1911;, I passed the Herald Building on Broad- 
way. I heard the Lusitania had been sunk, by 
a U-Boat, and my blood began to boil. I at 
once decided to enlist for immediate foreign 
service, but as America was not at war, it was 
quite a task for me to see foreign ser/ice. I was 
told to try Boston, and enlist in French Foreign 
Legion. Being out of funds, I beat my way on 
a freight train, from New York to Boston, 
Mass., and on my arrival I was told there was 
a '^horse boat" leaving for England via France. 
I went to an agent and was told to come to the 
docks and I would be put to work. 

When I arrived at the docks he told me he 
was sorry that he was all booked up, but that 
I could earn a dollar by leading the horses from 
the train to the boat. After three hours of 

127 



128 Allied Overseas Stories 

strenuous work with the wild horses, I succeeded 
in putting my last horse aboard the boat. I 
looked around for a good place to '^stow away" 
because I was determined to get across. The 
boat pulled her anchor on Thanksgiving Eve, 
1915. 

After ten minutes, a small boat approached us 
and announced that there was one too many 
aboard the ship. I heard it, but was too scared 
to move, and then the ship sailed to sea, satisfied 
that the crew was perfect. 

After two days at sea, I gave myself up, as 
I could not stand the hunger any longer, and was 
put to work feeding horses and mules. The 
weather was very rough going across and the 
horses, as well as m.en, became seasick, and we 
lost quite a few horses. After a nineteen day 
trip full of adventures, we landed safely at St. 
Nazarre, France, and German prisoners took 
the horses from the boat. 

They, the prisoners, were a nice lot of big 
husky fellows, and seemed very happy to be 
prisoners of war. I spoke to one of them in 
his native tongue and he told me that he would 
rather be a prisoner of war than fight, because 
he was sure of three square meals a day and a 
place to sleep. 

We then proceeded to Liverpool, England, 



New York to France and Back 129 

where we discharged our cargo of supplies. I 
was discharged from the ship by the American 
Consul and given one pound in English money, 
which is $4.86 in American money, for my 
twenty-one days of hard work at sea. 

While walking through the city of Liverpool, 
I was amused by several of the things I saw that 
were quite different from American ways. But 
the thing that touched my heart and aroused my 
patriotism, were the Belgian Refugees with 
mutilated bodies. I then thought of my own 
people over in New York, and in twenty min- 
utes, I was a soldier with the 8th Irish Battalion, 
King's Liverpool Regiment, giving a false age, 
and saying I was a Canadian subject in order to 
be accepted. 

I was given forty-eight hours furlough and six 
shillings ($1.44) to have a good time on. I then 
decided to light up the town, and asked a girl 
where the nearest saloon was. She did not know 
what I meant, but I soon found out that saloons 
were called ^'public houses" and they had "bar- 
maids" instead of bartenders. 

After my fort3^-eight hours had expired I was 
sent to Blackpool, England, a summer resort, for 
my training. Instead of living in tents, we were 
billetted in houses. 

With three months of hard training, I was 



130 Allied Overseas Stories 

sent to Southampton, from there to France, 
where we were detailed off, for our respective 
units. After a few months in the trenches I got 
a slight bayonet wound in the left arm. 

When America entered the war, I was trans- 
ferred to the American Army, and started for 
a retraining. It was then I received my severe 
wounds. I was shot through the right inguinal 
region^ removing most of my intestines, and 
paralyzing my nerves, leg, and side, thus crip- 
pling me for life and compelling me to use 
crutches for the remainder of my days. 

But in spite of what I went through I feel 
satisfied and contented, for the reason that, al- 
though severely wounded, I have done my bit 
for my people and the U. S. A. 

This ends a happy Yankee Boy's experience in 
the Great War of all nations. 

PvT. Arthur J. Lewis. 




PRIVATE JACK KNEEIiAND 



^'MY DUTY TO MY COUNTRY" 

By PvT. Jack Kneeland, No. 105, 43rd Co., 
5th Regt, U. S. Marines 

When the great world war was raging, and 
the United States was preparing for any trouble 
that might occur between her and the Teutonic 
Government, I was playing in vaudeville. April 
6th we received word that our government de- 
clared war on Germany. Immediately I decided 
to quit the show business and go into the service, 
but what branch I did not know as I was un- 
familiar with the different outfits of Uncle 
Sam's noble army and navy. As I was walking 
down the street I happened to notice different 
recruiting officers, appealing to the men to enlist 
in the several outfits we have, for the sake of 
our folks at home, and for democracy. I hap- 
pened to think of the navy as a good chance, but 
as I wished to be in the thick of the battles and 
excitement I decided it was either the army, or 
the United States Marines. While I was tryins^ 
to fix my mind on what I should do, a marine 
sergeant came and started talking to me and 

131 



132 Allied Overseas Stories 

asked me what I was going to do. I told him I 
was ready for the worst, and that I was anxious 
to go across the water and do my bit. He said 
that the United States Marines was the place for 
mcj a boy with the spirit Americans wanted. 
Well, it did not take me long to make up my 
mind, and shortly I was being examined by the 
doctor for physical fitness. I was confident 1 
would pass the rigid test that is given to the 
Marines as I had never had an illness of any 
kind in my life. After the examination I was 
told I was lOO per cent perfect, and sworn in 
as a private in the soldiers of the sea, as we call 
the Marines. First to fight on land and sea. 
Three days later I was called to depart for 
Paris Island, So. Carolina, where I was to get 
my training. I arrived the 15th day of April 
and was immediately sent to a quarantine sta- 
tion where all preparations were given, such as 
clothes, finger prints taken, and then I was 
finally sworn in once more, on the 21st day of 
April. After all these proceedings were over, 
I was sent to manoeuvering ground where the 
greatest task lay. We drilled from morning 
until late in the evening, but I did not mind it 
as I knew that it was for a good purpose. Dig- 
ging trenches, hand grenades practice, bayonet 
drills and rifle practice were our continual rou- 



My Duty to My Country 133 

tine, for fully three months. I was then trans- 
ferred to Marine Barracks, Phila., for duty, 
where I was assigned to the 5th regiment to be 
ready for overseas duty. 

On the 2ist day of August, we received word 
to get ready to sail. We were then given over- 
sea equipment and boarded the Transport "Hen- 
derson." We went to New York, where we 
loaded supplies and stores for the trip, and 
started on our way to No Man's Land, at mid- 
night the 22nd. As the submarines were active 
at that time we were somewhat delayed in get- 
ting there. But we finally arrived without a 
scratch. We landed on the 7th day of Septem- 
ber in St. Nazarre, France. There we were 
taken to the Rue Du Chateau, where we were 
assigned to barracks. 

Here we received our severe training. It was 
drill morning, school in afternoon, drill in even- 
ing, for two and a half months. After this we 
were ready for anything that might be needed 
of us. 

On the 17th of November our commander 
received orders to take our men to the Flanders 
front, where we were to hold the southeastern 
corner of the Marne with the Australian An- 
zacs. We immediately departed and arrived 
there on a very rainy day. 



134 Allied Overseas Stories 

Now comes the first real encounter the Amer- 
icans took part in. The Germans sent us a rapid 
shell fire from their position opposite to us. We 
immediately sent back an intense machine gun 
fire. The battle raged on for seventeen hours. 
I received a wound in the leg and was imme- 
diately sent to base hospital where I was at once 
treated. We were treated fine because the 
French now realized that we were with them in 
heart and soul. I remained in hospital twenty- 
three days, and then was sent back to the front, 
this time to join the 43rd Regt, 2nd Division, 
who were holding a front in Belgium on the 
Cambrai side. We advanced and took several 
little towns around Soisson and stopped at St. 
Quentin which was being shelled by the Au- 
strians. We took position and immediately 
started offensive. We succeeded in capturing 
two thousand prisoners who were sent to one of 
the French prison camps. After this encounter 
we were sent to rest camps, where our clothes 
were replaced by new ones, and allowed to visit 
the neighboring towns for seventy-two hours. I, 
with a comrade who you will read about later, 
went to Paris and had a very good time. 

The French people could think of nothing too 
good for us. After having a fine time, we 
reported back and occupied the second line, with 



My Duty to My Country 135 

the Canadians, and once more at Sartormai I 
was sent with a message to Major General 
Leonard Wood. It was a dispatch of fifty-three 
miles and I was to do this in an hour and ten 
minutes. I had a Harley Twin Six, and I started 
out. It was about 9.30, Paris time, when I was 
passing through a lonely village, a German 
sniper picked me off in the head. I regained 
consciousness and fired my Colt automatic and 
got my man. I succeeded in reaching my des- 
tination two minutes before time; but in an 
unconscious condition. I guess the good Lord 
was good to me and brought me to life again 
so that I could explain my mission. I was taken 
to base hospital No. 3, where my wound was 
treated with care and the lead extracted. For 
two weeks and a half I was practically senseless. 
My memory was impaired, caused by the shock 
of the bullet, and the intense speed I was going. 
In this hospital I met a German who had been 
captured and had been sent to the hospital to 
be treated for a scalp wound. He was a very 
well-educated boy, about nineteen years old and 
could speak English very well. 

He told me about how, against his will, he was 
dragged in and made to fight for Prussianism 
when he always believed in democracy. It 
almost brought tears to my eyes to listen to his 



136 Allied Overseas Stories 

story about the people who were wishing that 
the Kaiser and the Teutonic power would be 
killed, instead of taking every young fellow 
against his will and making him fight. I soon 
recovered, bid this boy good bye, and moved on 
to the second division, who were still occupying 
Flanders Front. 

One day while wading through mud, a big 
shell exploded in front of us and we lost a great 
number of men, and I fell into the shell crater 
with nine other men. The crater must have 
been forty feet deep, with about three feet of 
mud at the surface. Here we did not eat for 
five days. We had to drink the green slime and 
mud so that we might not perish from thirst. 
Every time we wanted to sleep we would fall 
in this mud and wake up all caked with it. Wc 
were finally rescued by a French patrol party, 
and given plenty of food and nourishment to put 
us on our feet again. We were sent to a con- 
valescent camp, and told to do nothing but rest. 
After resting for a month I was again placed 
in position with our snipers, with private Al 
Barker as my companion. I at once took posi- 
tion in the limbs of a tree, so that I could notice 
any patrols that might pass. On our southern 
corner we saw a raiding party of Germans, fix- 
ing their machine guns to clean up a town called 



My Duty to My Country 137 

St. Forme. We immediately opened fire on 
these men, and succeeded in picking off a large 
majority of them. Suddenly my comrade re- 
ceived a wound in the knee and fell to the 
ground. I descended and picking him up, car- 
ried him safely to our lines, receiving at the 
same time three bullet wounds. 

We vv^ere sent to base hospital No. 16, where 
we were operated on. It seemed as though it 
was a year before we were well. Finally we 
were sent to the front at Bellows Woods. This 
place was approximately the turning point of 
the war. It is situated thirty-eight miles from 
Paris, and the Crown Prince's Army were trying 
to advance through it. Here for forty-eight 
hours we were continually on the alert, always 
watching the Germans. We did not eat for 
forty hours. 

On the 1 8th of July at 12.03 A. M. we 
received the call to arms. We were ordered to 
advance to the Forest of Pere where a great 
number of Germans were operating. We trav- 
elled seven and a half miles on foot and placed 
ourselves on the southeastern part of Chateau 
Thierry. We opened fire immediately, and this 
is where the bloodiest encounter of our service 
took place. We succeeded in starving our op- 
ponents and cut off all their ammunition. It 



138 Allied Overseas Stories 

was a big disaster to us as they outnumbered us 
four to one. After the British had been thrown 
back, the Marines took the field and succeeded 
in annihilating the Crown Prince's army. 

Of our battalion, of one thousand men, only 
147 survived, and practically all of these were 
wounded. The Germans, seeing that they were 
beaten, immediately sent over their fumes of 
deadly mustard gas and liquid fire. I happened 
to be one of the unlucky ones and received a big 
dose of it. It fairly burned the clothes from my 
back, blinding me instantly, and deafened me. 
I was taken to base hospital No. 23 where I re- 
mained forty-two days. After I had recovered 
a little I was sent to a convalescent camp to 
await my departure for the good old U. S. A. 
On September 24th I sailed from Brest and 
arrived safely in Hoboken, October 3, 191 8. 

Private Jack Kneeland. 




SERGT. aiAKK L. NICHOLSON 



THE "DARDENELLES" CAMPAIGN 

By Sgt. M. L. Nicholson, No. 3736, loth 
Liverpool Scottish, B.E.F. 

At the outbreak of the war I enlisted in the 
loth Liverpool Scottish Regiment, B.E.F. It 
was at 2.30 P. M. on September 14th, 1914, I 
went into the recruiting office, and offered my 
services. The captain looked at me and said, 
"I am afraid you are too young.'' I was then 
seventeen years of age. With tears in my eyes 
I walked out only to meet my six pals who were 
in Kilts. One of them, "Vic" Gordon, said: 

"Come back at five o'clock and try again;" 
so I made up my mind I would get in the army 
at five o'clock that day, and I was accepted, I 
think, because they were so busy in the office 
that they did not notice me. Well, I went home 
the day after with my knees all bare; perhaps 
for the first time since my childhood. My folks 
just roared and laughed at me, saying, "You will 
never make a soldier," and a lot more things 
that made my Scotch blood boil. 

I stayed at home for three days, before I was 
called, and then, only then did I know what 

139 



140 Allied Overseas Stories 

being a soldier meant. The first thing was to 
learn how to turn and salute, then came a route 
march, around the country for ten miles. It 
was no joke with great big army boots that 
weighed about fifteen pounds, — it seemed that 
much to me. After being in the army for about 
four weeks, we were brought to the fields to 
drill. What I could not understand was, that 
they put cows and other animals into this big 
field the night before and that field was just ter- 
rible for a man to walk on, let alone lay down 
in. We were all wondering what we were going 
to do, and, I can tell you, it wasn't long before 
we found out. The captain came up to us and 
said: 

"All right boys, we are ready for some drill 
in this field." 

You should have seen the look on some of the 
boys' faces. I may mention that some of them 
were bankers and lawyers and even millionaire's 
sons. I heard one man say in a typical English 
way: "Oh! isn't the army beastly, old man." 

Of course, not being used to army life, it 
would make any man swear, but as the days 
rolled on we all got used to it. They moved us 
from a place called "Slop Field" in Liverpool 
to a place called No Man's Field in Blackpool. 
Every day it rained we would go on this field 



The "Dardenelles" Campaign 141 

for extended order drill. At any rate we became 
used to army life in, what I thought, a very 
short time. It was in November, 19 14, about 
seven o'clock when we arrived at Southampton, 
and were put up, for the night, in stables, with 
damp blankets to cover ourselves. After that 
night I began to suspect something. I just sat 
down to think that they were breaking us in for 
France. We were in this place till December 
3rd and at twelve that night we sailed for an 
unknown destination. We arrived at a place 
called Le Havre, France. There I met with an 
accident. A horse kicked me in the right leg, 
and put me out of business for a month. That 
was my start to see real life. I was fixed up by 
the Red Cross and sent to a battalion called the 
Lancashire Fusileers. We left France and 
arrived in London, January tenth. They gave 
us ten days leave, and packed us on a big liner 
called the Alaunia. We left on this liner and 
I did not know where I was until we arrived at 
Gibraltar. We were there for five hours — then 
set sail for Malta. We received orders not to 
leave the ship as we would not be there more 
than twelve hours, and that twelve hours seemed 
like twelve years. We could see all the people, 
and shops, but we could not get to them. We 
sailed away from Malta to an unknown destina- 



142 Allied Overseas Stories 

tion. About one hundred miles out to sea we 
received orders to turn back, on account of the 
submarines being very active around that dis- 
trict, but an hour after we received that message, 
we had orders to proceed on our journey, and all 
the way we could see dead horses and boxes float- 
ing on the water. We were told later that a ship 
had been torpedoed a short distance in front of 
us. We were out three days when we sighted 
land, and, believe me, it was a treat, as the drill 
on the ship was very bad. The boys had to scrub 
out their bunks and the decks, and others had to 
keep watch, all night, for the little devils in the 
water. Anyway, it was a great relief when we 
disembarked at Alexandria, Egypt. It was some 
place. I met people from all over the world. 
We were taken over to the barracks and a very 
funny thing happened. I was in charge of 
twenty-four men, and let me tell you they were 
all rough necks. I asked one how he liked the 
place and he said: 

*'Oh, I would like to be in the Bee Hotel, 
playing a game of pool." He had just time to 
get those words out of his mouth, when a man 
with a big cigar in his mouth, put his arm 
around his neck and shouted : 

^Tom! my dear brother." 

You should have seen how they hugged and 



The "Dardenelles" Campaign 143 

kissed each other for about fifteen minutes. All 
this time the rest of the boys were trying to make 
out the Arabs. They were visitors, looking at us 
with open mouths. We had our drill on a desert 
and with a broiling sun on us all the time. We 
left Alexandria the latter end of March, 1915, 
and arrived at Lemnos, a Greek Island, later 
used as a hospital base. After we left Lemnos 
in a convoy of about fifteen ships we arrived at 
our destination, the Dardenelles. All that we 
could see in front of us was a great big hill. 
Later we found out they called it Kemara Hill. 
The spirit of everyone was good. We were 
issued 200 rounds of ammunition and carried 
our packs on our backs. All that I could hear 
from the boys was : 

"We will take that hill by the morning." 
Little did we know what was in store for us. 
Orders came to disembark, so we all helped to 
lower the life boats, and climbed down the rope 
ladders into them. I was all settled down with 
the rest of the boys to make a clean landing 
without the Turks knowing. Up came a tug 
boat and took about ten small boats in tow. 

Just at that moment we were under fire. The 
big battleships opened up, and it was some bom- 
bardment. The 15-inch guns on the "Queen 
Elizabeth" let go with the rest. We were about 



144 Allied Overseas Stories 

twenty yards off the beach when, before my 
eyes, I saw my comrades fall in the water, boats 
capsizing, rifles in the air, and arms and legs 
flying around. On seeing this our tug turned 
towards Cape Helios, on the right of West 
Beach, and every man made for the water. Some 
managed to get on land. You see, the Turks 
mastered by German officers, put barbed wire 
entanglements into the water. They knew wc 
could only land in small boats as the water was 
not deep enough for a liner to get close. As the 
life boats turned, they got tangled in the wire 
and overturned. Some of the boys tried to grasp 
hold of the wire, but had to let go, as it cut their 
hands, and of course they were drowned. We 
lost an awful number of men before the real 
scrap began, and I will say it was some landing. 
I did not believe I could come through this bit 
of a scrap. When I landed I looked to see if 
I was all there. The Turks had trenches right 
up to the water^s edge and, God Bless those 
Australians, they drove the Turks out of the 
first line and gave us a chance to land. I asked 
a chap next to me what he thought of it and 
how he liked it. Well, he gave me a look enough 
to kill me, and said, "Well, the first five years 
is the worst. After that I suppose we will get 
used to it." 



The "Dardenelles" Campaign 145 

I was five days on land when I began to feel 
the strain of not having enough food or water 
Water was scarce and my mouth was all blist- 
ered, it was so hot. We were getting a little 
supply of water and biscuits from the ships. 
They came in gasoline cans that had not been 
washed out properly, but we were so thirsty that 
we did not bother about the taste. 

When I received my wound on the head, I did 
not know what hit me, but I found myself on 
board a boat called ^^Andania," a sister ship to 
the one I left England in. I had a big bandage 
stuck on my head and was shipped to Lemnos. I 
lost my memory for a bit and they called mc a 
serious case, so they packed me to a hospital in 
Alexandria. I fell unconscious again for ten 
hours and, as I opened my eyes, I could just 
see a pair of lovely blue ones looking down at 
me, and a little motherly hand grasped mine. 
I cannot explain the feeling in my heart in 
words, when I saw it was a mother. I called 
her mother because she was a Red Cross nurse. 
The first thing she asked me was, "Can I write 
a letter home for you?" You can imagine what 
I said. I had not heard from home since I left, 
and I told her to write and say I was all right 
and would be home soon. I was in that hospital 
three weeks and every day I would ask that 



146 Allied Overseas Stories 

lovely mother to write for me, as I was too weak 
to write myself. It broke my heart when I had 
to leave that hospital as all the nurses were so 
kind to me. I sailed on a hospital ship for Eng- 
land and was put in a hospital in Liverpool, my 
own home town. In this hospital there was a 
funny Irish boy who had come from France and 
was all covered with bandages. I made a pal 
of him, and the jokes he used to tell me made 
me forget the pain. One Wednesday a lady 
came to see us in the hospital and looked at mc, 
saying: 

"Were you hurt at the Front," and my Irish 
pal answered for me, saying: "No, ma'am, sure 
he tripped over a match stick and sure a fly 
kicked him." 

Oh, he was full of the devil. On leaving that 
hospital I got a month's leave to recuperate, and 
spent it at home. I was recalled for service at 
the end of the month to my delight, as I wanted 
to see some more fighting. I was attached to the 
2nd Battalion of the loth Liverpool Scottishy 
and we were detailed to go to France. 




SERGT. NICHOLSON, SHOWING HIS WOUNDED SKULE 
AND HEEMET WORN WHEN WOUND WAS RECEIVED 



^THE FIRST OF THE TANKS' " 
By Sergt. M. L. Nicholson 

Rushed out of the pleasant atmosphere of an 
English hospital into France, thence to Arras, 
to help extend the British front, was my next 
little bit of adventure. Arras at that time was 
a sort of resting place, as the fighting there was 
not half so severe as at Gallipoli, and besides 
it was held on a fifty-fifty basis, the Germans 
holding one half the village and the British the 
other. 

Vimy Ridge, nearby, and Arras were well 
sown with mines, and this being known to the 
enemy, we were not molested by surprise at- 
tacks as we otherwise would have been. Close 
upon Arras, stood DeviFs Wood, a point of 
vantage to whichever side could hold it. It 
was a much sought after place and had recently 
been wrested from the British. It was up to 
the newcomers, mostly from the ist Kings 
Liverpool Regiment, to regain it. Needless to 
say we did this thoroughly and kept on ad- 
vancing to Fleurs. 

147 



148 Allied Overseas Stories 

At this stage of the game a great surprise 
was sprung on us. We were keyed up to the 
highest point, ready for battle, and it was to 
be our first attack on Fleurs, when of a sudden 
we were drenched by a deluge of tear shells. 
A tear shell is one of the meanest of all shells 
as it gives out a poison that causes the tear 
ducts to turn almost inside out and the tears, 
which continually flow, change to a sickly look- 
ing green fluid. On top of that, we were also 
treated to a breakfast of liquid gas and, believe 
me, I got my fill on that memorial morning. 

To make sure that I was "out" for good, a 
stray piece of shrapnel found its way through 
my helmet and opened a three-inch scalp wound 
which I had received, as a souvenir, from a 
Turk at the Dardenelles. The photograph shows 
how my helmet suffered. 

The gas attack in the morning temporarily 
blinded my right eye. However all these minor 
affairs did not occur until after I had witnessed 
the greatest surprise of the war. 

It was at the "Zero Hour," and we were ner- 
vously awaiting the word to go over, when five 
huge, lumbering monsters crept forward from 
our lines. Could this be a bad dream, or were 
we seeing things. But look! They are spitting 
fire. They don't stop ! Down into a trench and 



The First of the Tanks 149 

over they go. Barbed wire is like a spider's 
web to them! God! how they travel, these ani- 
mated blocks of steel. They look like cater- 
pillars or frogs. They look like every living 
thing that crawls, and the enemy's shells fall 
from them like water from a duck's back. On- 
ward they go and we are told to follow them. 
The rest is history. They were the first five 
^'tanks'- used in the war and, at once, were recog- 
nized as the most terrible of all engines of de- 
struction. Their presence revived our fellows 
as though an electric current had passed through 
them. These first "tanks" were a symbol of our 
strength and determination to win and when 
we saw them sweep forward majestically, liter- 
ally eating up the Hun devils, my heart was 
glad, and the pain of my wounds vanished. The 
boys now had a fighting chance against the 
wicked machinations of the foe. We had gone 
the enemy one better, at his own game of inven- 
tions, and Victory was only a question of build- 
ing more "tanks" behind which the infantry 
could find shelter in the attack. 




SJ]KGT. DOUGLAS AYLEN 



THE SUNSHINE OF THE TRENCHES 

By Sgt. E. D. G. Aylen, No.475337,P.P.C.LJ. 
("Princess Pats") C.E.F. 

I had just returned from a long summer's 
work on a surveying party, on the Canadian 
Pacific Railway, and everybody in my home 
town, Montreal, (that is the men) were all 
dressed in uniform, and the women seemed to 
be looking at me, and at first I felt uncom- 
fortable and wondered why they stared at me. 
Then I realized that I had just returned from 
the brush of the great Canadian northwest. I 
knew, of course, that there was a war on, and 
the boys were going over, but for the moment, 
on my arrival in town, forgot 

The boy friends whom I chummed with were 
overseas, and my blood began to boil. I was 
then nineteen years of age, and was quite eligible 
for service. After a few days at home, I an- 
nounced, to my mother and father, that I was 
going overseas. Both objected and said that I 
should take out a commission. That did not 
suit me, and I thought of the quickest way to 
get over. 

151 



152 Allied Overseas Stories 

On my way to "McGill'' one morning I 
stopped to talk to two boys in uniform. I asked 
them how they liked the army and what unit 
they belonged to. One said: 

"Army life is great. We are ^University' boys 
to reinforce the famous Trincess Pats/ and I 
believe it is the quickest way over." That was 
just what I wanted, and I asked the boys to go 
with me to the recruiting office, which they did. 

Corporal Coate was there to greet us, and it 
was not long before I was signed up. After 
all sorts of questions I was given a small slip 
of paper with my number on it (No. 475337) 
and a hat bad^e with "Universities Overseas 
Company," and on my shoulders were letters 
that read P.P.C.L.I. ("Princess Patricia's 
Canadian Light Infantry"). I had heard all 
about the famous "Pats" and was of course glad 
that I was to be one of them. 

It was September 28th, 191 5, that I was sworn 
in as a soldier and I felt fine. We trained in 
Canada, at McGill University, for two months 
and had it not been for the war I would have 
been well on my way as a student of that uni- 
versity. We had guard work to do, physical 
training and route marching; then word was 
passed around that we were to go overseas and 



The Sunshine of the Trenches 153 

we were all delighted, as none of us wanted to 
be "Home Guards." 

On November the 15th, we left Montreal by 
train, amid the cheering crowds of our friends, 
sweethearts and mothers. Two days after we 
arrived at Halifax where we embarked at 5 
P. M. on the S.S. Lapland. The people in 
Halifax were there to mail letters or postal cards 
for us, which we threw from the steamer. 

At seven P. M. we set out on our long voyage, 
and, as the boat steamed out, the band on the 
deck played "When the Roll is Called Up 
Yonder I'll be There," but the funny part was, 
that every member of the band was about sixty 
years old, and we knew he "wouldn't be there." 

We had eight good days going over and all 
enjoyed it, except a few who treated the fish 
in the ocean. 

The latter part of November we arrived in 
England at Plymouth, and, in the rain, em- 
barked on a train to our training camp at St. 
Martin's Plain near Shorncliffe. As you know, 
we trained there, but that will not interest you as 
much as our time in France, so I will skip that 
to the day we sailed for France. 

At four A. M. we all fell in and the roll call 
was taken. We marched to the train, after 
having our pay book made up to date. We never 



154 Allied Overseas Stories 

forgot the pay book or the dinner call. A thing 
that all the boys noticed was that we were to 
cross the channel from Southampton on the 
S.S. Duke of Connaught, a fitting place for 
"Princess Pats." Other boys said that was luck. 
It was for some of us. We arrived at Havre, 
France, and in the rain marched seven miles to 
a camp called the Central Training Camp, 
where we spent a few days receiving instructions 
in modern warfare. 

After the few days in camp we marched seven 
miles back again to Havre, and proceeded by 
train by Poperinghe in those beautiful Pullman 
cars, marked 40 men — 8 horses. 

We arrived at Poperinghe at 5 P. M., after 
spending all night, and part of the next day, in 
the cars. As we came nearer to our station we 
could hear the shells bursting and the booming 
of the guns. One could sec nothing but heads 
stuck out of the car windows just as far as cran- 
ing necks could stretch. 

Arriving at Poperinghe we met a lieutenant 
who asked the sergeant: 

"Are you for the Pats?" the sergeant replying, 
"Yes sir." In a very English way the lieutenant 
said : 

"Oh, very well, follow me. I know where the 
Pats are, as I was sent for you." 



The Sunshine of the Trenches 155 

Well, we followed him. He took us four 
miles the wrong way and back again — then we 
had an extra two miles to the Pats quarters. He 
knew where the "Pats" were all right, all right. 

Now we are with the regiment and I was put 
in No. 3 company under Major Charlie Stewart, 
who was one good fellow. The regiment was 
out for rest, but we worked every night going 
up the line to do work in the trenches, and help 
the engineers. 

Now to tell of one or two little experiences in 
the front line, say about the time of the "Third 
Battle of Ypres." The regiment held the line 
at Hooge and we were all University men, as 
the old regiment was practically all wiped out, 
except a handful. Our major was well liked, 
and a word from him was well obeyed. 

A few days before the big show I was sent 
out on a scouting party of twelve, with lieu- 
tenant Fife in charge. We succeeded in getting 
over to the German wire, and I don't know 
whether the Germans got wise to our coming, 
through the sneezing of one of the party, or 
whether the clipping of the wire was heard. 
But we were greeted with, first a rifle shot from 
a sniper, then a bomb. Then a dozen, but only 
two of the boys were killed. We moved further 
up the line and a little closer to "Fritzie's" line. 



156 Allied Overseas Stories 

There we remained quiet for a few seconds. I, 
being near Lieut. Fife, was asked by him to 
follow, which 1 did. He went up to a part of 
the Hun's line that was built of old sand bags, 
where we could look right up the German line, 
as the star shell burst and lit up the place. 

As everything was quiet, the boys were 
anxious to start something, so a few bombs were 
hurled in, but in return we had the same amount, 
and had to return to our own lines minus two 
of the boys. 

It was on a working party that some fun oc- 
curred, as it always does in the trenches. We 
were moving from the road, to proceed up the 
^^China wall," in the Ypres Salient, which led 
to the trenches, running through the shattered 
vilage of Hooge; when the sergeant major said 
to me: 

"Aylen, special duty, step out." 

I thought, "I wonder what is coming now." 

After he had the number of men he wanted, 
and all the other boys were up the line, he called 
me and pointing to twelve large thermos soup 
tanks, said: 

"See those Aylen?" 

I said "Yes, Sir." 

"Well," he said, "take them up the line." 

I looked at him and then at the tanks and said : 



The Sunshine of the Trenches 157 

^^Shall I take them all up at once, or one at 
a time." 

He gave me one look and said, "Don't get 
funny, this is a soft job for you." 

I said, "But I can't carry those up." 

He said, "You must." 

Now the soup tanks were about four feet high 
and about a foot in diameter. 

I said again, "Sir, I can't carry that up." 

He, a little angry, said, "You must." 

I said, "I can't carry it — it is bigger than I 
am." 

Then he said, "Well a man is to help you." 

So he sent a man, whose name was Cleary, an 
Irishman, about six feet two inches tall, and as 
I was only five feet five inches, it was going to 
be rather awkward for us both, as you have 
to put a long pole through the loops on each side 
of the tank, and put the pole on your shoulders. 
The tank hangs in the center. Cleary being 
taller than I, and the trench mats very slippery 

we had "one of a time." I was getting 

the worst of it. We slipped and stumbled and 
spoke about a hundred different kinds of "swear 
words." Now the "China wall" ends about half 
way up, and we then stepped down into the 
trench. Just about twenty feet away from the 
end of the "China wall" there was a large shell 



158 Allied Overseas Stories 

hole and our trench mats which are made of 
wood, went across one side of the shell-hole. 
When the shell hole is full of muddy water the 
trench mats float. This night Cleary and I hap- 
pened to pass it when it was full. It was very 
dark and I did not notice that the mat was loose, 
as I was leading, so upon putting my foot on the 
mat, down it went. The hole was about eight 
feet deep, and I felt it going from under me and 
pulled on the pole. Soup tank, pole, Cleary and 
all followed me into that shell hole. When we 
came up covered with that lovely, slimy mud, 
you couldn't tell which was the soup tank. Then 
I remembered what the sergeant-major had said, 
"This is a soft job for you," — and believe me it 
was. 

There is one thing I would like to say 
and that is the boys of the Princess Pats had 
wonderful courage, and always a good word for 
each other. I can picture plainly our trip over 
the top at Hooge, when I went over with the 
second wave. I could see the boys on our left 
going through a swamp up to their waists in 
filth ; ploughing through, their rifles up over 
their heads, so they would not get blocked with 
dirt, and when a man met a bullet with "his 
number," he would fall back or forwards and 
disappear under this water and mud; just like 
quicksand. 



The Sunshine of the Trenches 159 

It was after a terrific bombardment of our 
lines. I was detailed to fill sand bags in a shell 
hole beside a communication trench, just back 
of the front lines. I was with five other chums, 
when a shell dropped on the far corner of the 
shell hole, which I was facing, and the shrapnel 
penetrated my left shoulder, mouth, right eye 
and a small piece in my left leg. My chum. 
Nelson, was badly wounded in the back, and 
I believe the other four boys were buried. I 
never heard if they got them out, as I was un- 
conscious, but when I was struck I can remem- 
ber, first seeing a green light, felt a burning in 
my eye, and a blow on my shoulder as if struck 
with a sledge hammer. I felt myself slide down 
in the mud and I knew nothing until I awoke 
in the major's dugout. I was told what had hap- 
pened to the other boys. 

I was then taken to the dressing station and 
in two days arrived at No. 3 Canadian General 
Hospital at Boulogne. 

T was blind in both eyes for a month, had two 
operations in France, and was then sent to Eng- 
land to the 4th London General Hospital, Den- 
mark Hill. After spending a few months there 
I was sent to the C.C.A.C. (Canadian Casualty 
Assembly Centre) better known as "Charlie 
Chaplin's." This was at Folkstone. After 



i6o Allied Overseas Stories 

having two "boards" they found me unfit for 
further service in England or France, so I was 
billed for Canada. 

Arriving in Canada on the S.S. Empress of 
Britain, at Quebec, I was sent to the convalescent 
Home (Belmont Park) at Montreal, and after 
treatment was honorably discharged as medi- 
cally unfit. 

I trained in the McGill O. T. C. and later 
came to New York with the "British Canadian 
Recruiting Mission," where I lectured, and did 
recruiting work, through New York City. 
Since leaving the mission I have travelled to 
the West Indies and through the eastern part 
of the U. S. Many of my experiences I have 
omitted on account of space, but I am proud 
to have belonged to a famous regiment, "The 
Princess Pats." 

Sergt. Douglass Aylen, 




SERGT. JOHN 3IICHAEI. TEEHAN 



ON THE BELGIAN RETREAT OF 1914 

By Sergt. John Michael Teehan, No. 
21746, 6th Inniskilling Dragoons, B.E.F. 

After the battle of the Marne, it fell to my 
lot to be transferred to the Belgian Front. I 
was within twenty kilometers of Antwerp, when 
the Germans were shelling the town, and the 
^Zepps" overhead dropping their messages of 
death on the women and children. I was in 
fact attached to no one in particular and every- 
body in general, and, as it were, I had quite a 
free hand in choosing my own sparring partner. 
My first encounter was with the Uhlans, or 
German Lancers. They were six foot high and 
dressed to kill, and seemed to think they were 
going to have a cake walk into Paris; but they 
had not reckoned with the British Marines, 
Cavalry, and British grit. We had quite an 
exciting time until we got to a little place called 

P . There we had to hbld the rear guard 

at all costs. We were badly cut up but gained 
our objective, which enabled us to dig in, and 
hold fast until reinforcements came up, which 

161 



1 62 Allied Overseas Stories 

were, in those early days, few and far between. 
When the reinforcements came we drove the 
Hun out of the village, and one of the sights 
which met our eyes was the body of a little boy 
nailed to a barn door, feet up and still alive. 
On the ground was an officer of the Prussian 
Guard, mortally wounded, with the gun in his 
hand, which he had used to nail the little boy 
with. We went nearly mad. Try to imagine 
our feelings. I leave you to judge for your- 
self that officer's fate. 

We had it pretty tough for a time going 
through the country, as the peasants were in 
great terror of the approaching "baby-killers." 

Our next chance of a rest was Ostend. The 
town was like a bee-hive, owing to the fact that 
we had a great supply of foodstuflfs and had to 
get it away quickly. We worked night and day 
to bury it, and ship it off, down the line, but the 
German advance was so rapid that we were 
forced to sink some of the ships in the harbor. 

The Belgians were like a lot of sheep, coming 
down the roads. Old men, women and children 
all trying to get away. It was a sight to see little 
boys pushing carts with the old folks sitting 
there helpless, and unable to understand. Yet 
they always had a kind word for "The Boys." 
While there we had with us an old soldier who. 



The Belgian Retreat of 19 14 163 

at every opportunity, used to clean up every part 
of his uniform, regardless of the shells falling 
around. The sights he had seen had turned 
his brain. He left us on the retreat, and went 
back into the city, so we lost all trace of him. 

On one occasion, while resting on the out- 
skirts of the town, I treated myself to a bed 
under a wagon, and took off my boots and stock- 
ings, the first time since Mons (August 23, 
1914). I cannot express how relieved I was. 
I then took off my tunic and made myself as 
comfortable as possible. I went to the land 
of rosy dreams, to which a soldier is almost a 
stranger, but was rudely awakened by trying to 
make a passage through the bottom of the 
wagon. "Fritzie" had dropped a few "coal 
boxes" and "Jack Johnsons" rather close to my 
bed, and the concussion lifted me off the ground. 
You should have seen me "beat it." I swear that 
all the "coal boxes" in "Hunland" would never 
have caught me. I did not wait for boots, socks, 
or tunic, and if I had not tripped over a dead 
German officer I would have been running yet. 
Now, don't all laugh 1 

Coming to my senses again I suddenly 
realized that I was barefooted and without any 
tunic, so I examined the Huns lying around, 
and selected from a young officer his "Jack 



164 Allied Overseas Stories 

boots," which I filled with grass. Then I re- 
lieved him of his sword and revolver and took 
to the road, all dressed up and no one to see me. 
After I had travelled about one kilometer I 
struck it rich, by finding a dead Belgian and his 
horse. I relieved him of his cap, coat and 
saddle, and believe me I must have looked like 
a cross between an Irishman, Belgian and Hun. 
Later I roped in a horse, so I was O. K. until 
the colonel saw me, and then I did catch it for 
being improperly dressed. 

I travelled all night, and in the early hours 
of the morning, I stumbled across about three 
hundred Belgian cavalry in a woods. Of course 
I was not sure of them at first, as "Fritz" was 
very fond of masquerading in other people's 
clothing, so I took no chances. At first they 
took me for one of themselves, and I had some 
time convincing them that I was a real Irish- 
man. I had a talk in French with the officers, 
and some debate as to what we should do. Their 
intentions were to surrender, so taking the law 
into my own hands, I spoke to the men and gave 
them my idea. We considered it better to take 
a chance on our lives, rather than give in to 
those curs and be treated worse than beasts; and 
I, being only nineteen years old, seemed to in- 
spire them with more energy than their officers, 



The Belgian Retreat of 19 14 165 

and, being away behind the German advance 
line, we decided to cut our way through or die. 
So with my Uhlan saber and somebody's else 
horse I led the Belgians through, taking about 
six hundred prisoners. We came out at Dix- 
mude. I left them and reported at head- 
quarters, only to be placed under arrest by a 
colonel of Black ¥/atch. After I had presented 

myself to the C. O. he asked, "Who the H 

are you?" I replied, ''Trumpeter Teehan, 
Sir." 

Then he trained all his guns on me and 
barked : 

''Where did you get that d — — uniform?" 

I replied, "Well, sir, I was rudely awakened 
one morning by Fritzie, so I had to "beat it" to 
a safe refuge, leaving my tunic behind, so on 
my way I helped myself to anything I could 
find." 

I got out of this scrape O. K., and, in a few 
days I was sent to Nieuport, Belgium, where 
we had to rough it properly. 

It was during a charge there that I was 
stuck by a Prussian Guard through the pommel 
of the saddle. I killed him w^ith an ounce of 
British lead. Then all went dark. 

Since then I have fought on five different 
battle fronts. g.^^^^ j^^^^ ^ Teehan. 



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